Bellerophon's Fall
by Ravanok17
Summary: There was a change, that night. It shifted the path Fate had attempted to seal, allowing Secrets long dead to come to Light. Now, Dumbledore fights an uphill battle, Harry makes new friends and faces a Darker Future, and everything becomes Uncertain. AU, Romance is slow but present
1. Prologue

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI. Updated every Sunday**

Freak was awoken by a pounding in his cupboard door. As long as he could remember it had been the exact same. Get up, make breakfast, clean the dishes, weed the gardens, clean the house entirely. Never had the pattern shifted, nor had the autonomy of it all changed. Occasionally a beating was thrown in, but that was rare in his childhood.

Yes, his childhood. No longer could he be considered anything but a man, despite being only 6. His Uncle made certain of that.

He got up, and opened his cupboard door, making his way to the kitchen. The bacon was on, and he beat hurry if he wanted to prevent it from burning. It might give him a few more scraps, but it was far from worth the beating he would receive.

His fat pig of a cousin jumped down the stairs, yelled 'Hi, Freak!' As usual and sat down. He may lack manners and is not yet a spoiled bastard, but he was certainly friendly. Freak wondered how long it would last, children were very impressionable and while for now he helped Freak, it was only a matter of time before he took on his father's likeness.

The bacon was finished by the time Vernon had cambered down the stairs, creaking as he went. As Freak set down the plate for his Uncle, He was smacked across the back of the head. Dazed from the hit, he did not see the kick coming at his stomach. He fell back, and picked himself up, moving towards the dishes.

Once they were finished, Freak was ordered to follow Petunia, and as usual he did so without complaint. He was sat down in a small room, Dudley's toy room. He spotted a broken aero plane, three dusty children's books that Freak planned on sneaking to his cupboard at some point and struck with a missing wheel. It wasn't too filled now, but Freak expected it to be packed by his eighth birthday.

The floor was a rough carpet, and the closet next to him seemed somewhat evil, to his little six year old mind. The walls were a bare white, like the rest of the house, and Vernon, together with Petunia behind him were an intimidating bunch.

"Listen here, Freak. You will be going to school tomorrow, and I've gathered your supplies from the store." At this, he tossed a dark blue backpack at Freak, ripped in places and the zipper for the larger pocket never closed completely.

"Now, I want you to be prepared, and I don't want any questions asked of us, so you better listen closely." At this, Freak immediately shifted his attention to the Fat Man, as he had taken to calling the man in his mind. He told all sorts of stuff , wonders for the closed off child. How he would have a teacher and he had to listen to her as he would have them, and more.

—

Freak listed the rules in his head as he lay down on his bed, preparing for the night.

No Friends

Listen to the Teacher

Do not talk about the Cupboard

Do not talk about House

Most Importantly, DO NOT TALK ABOUT MAGIC.

The last was the most important rule, as always. His Uncle hated when he talked about magic, and he always got the worst beatings when he did so. From his childhood he remembered very little, only a flash of green light and a greasy haired man.

He did not know it now, but no matter how hard he tried, the greasy haired man would leave his memories and the green light was all he would remember, and it disappointed him. He eventually fell asleep, thinking about the man. He seemed quite nice, if not a bit bitter.

—

As Freak got ready for his first day of school, he packed the sparse possessions he had into his pack and got ready. He would be walking to the bus with his cousin, and it was a time he would remember for the rest of his life.

As Freak walked with Dudley, he enjoyed this time. No Vernon or Petunia, only him and his cousin, talking quietly. Dudley confesses he did not want to turn out like his parents, but was scared what they would think of him if he did not. He was scared that they would push him to hurt Freak.

Freak stopped, and stared ahead of him. He knew what he had to do. He grabbed his cousin, who was bewildered at his behavior and looked him in his eyes. He used his vocabulary, which had been expanded from the times he had run off to the library ins exert to read ever since he was four, to make his message as clear as possible.

"Look, Dudley, I know. I know it's hard. I know that you're afraid of what they will think of you. I understand, and I want to tell you this. They are monsters, and one day we will escape them. I promise. For now, we must put up a facade, or a mask. Make it look like we are doing as our roles demand. You see me going along with what they want, yes?" At this, Dudley nodded, determination set in his face.

"You have to follow their example, beat me, hit me, act like a monster, and you must do this always. Even when they are not their, and when t seems they are not looking, or else trouble might come about. Scare off people from being my friend, because it frightens me what they might do to you, should they know otherwise.

"All this, I promise, will lead to a better future, one where we are happy, and they are gone. Once we reach eighteen, we can escape them, and leave. We can be friends, brothers, even, if you want. But to do this, we have to go along for twelve more years. When it happens, we may escape, yeah?" Freak was frightened, frightened that Dudley might not go along with it.

Dudley, on the other hand, listened carefully. He understood it all; and realized he had to be dumb and spoiled in front of his parents, even though he knew Vernon had been like that, and had become an arsehole. Vernon really cursed a lot when he was drunk, which was often.

Dudley, mulling over this decision, mad eien that would change his life. He would do as Freak said, and when they reached eighteen, which his parents told him was a very small number, they would escape as brothers.

And so, Dudley and Freak clasped forearms as they had seen the knights do on television, making the choice. Dudley would never forget this conversation for the rest of his living days, would tell it to his grandchildren and grand nephews and nieces, of how he gained a brother out of a cousin, one he would trust with his life.

**The One Born of Darkness Rises**

**As Their Origin meets Crisis**

—

Daphne Greengrass lay in her room, crying. Her visions plagued her once more, of a young boy suffering, forced to be a house-elf. She never knew who he was, could never see what he looked like perfectly, all she knew was that he had dark hair and piercing green eyes.

Suddenly the door slammed open, and her sister was shoved into the room. She went over and held Astoria as she cried, used by her drunk uncle. It was happening more often now, and Daphne could do nothing. Her accidental magic was no match for her uncles protego, after which he would curse her. Lucky she was, that 4 was too young for him, but Apparently 7 was alright.

She spat at his name, and donned her shields, preparing herself. The man was a monster, and as much she tried, she could do nothing. She did not know that in three years, he would be killed by his own stupidity and her sister would be turned back, her body untouched once more and her mind wiped.

But Daphne's shields were too strong, and combined with her accidental magic her mind could never be tampered with. Angry at herself for it, she thanked the Gods that she would never be touched, no matter what the man did.

Her shields frightened him, and he would never come close to her, even if she was older. The stupid contract didn't protect her sister like it was supposed to, and it angered her. How could it do that? How could it leave her sister to suffer, despite the fact it stated that magic would protect the holder?

Unless… no, it was stupid to contemplate. She couldn't be the subject, she was the younger one, magic certainly knew math!

It did, and it also knew the future. It knew the fate, of Astoria, but due to its own laws it could not interfere since Daphne would become subject to the contract, and as such would be the only one to be protected. It had to watch as that wretched man did what he wanted, and it tried its hardest to protect her, but the laws were specific and it couldn't tear those down without the whole of reality falling along with it.

As Atoria fell asleep in her arms, Daphne looked at the girl, crying silently for her plight. There was nothing she could do, and she knew it. Virginity untouched or not, the man was destroying her, and she had no idea what to do, if she could do anything. She wanted desperately to protect her, but there was nothing she could do.

It would eat her up, until eventually her magic reacted so violently to her emotions, a certain apparition was interrupted.

When her parents arrived, she walked up to them, cold mask upon her face as she hugged them.

—

She walked to the living room, where upon a crystal table lied a pocket knife. Her uncle was watching a quidditch game through a newly developed technology, Television Magic, which displayed the image much like those in the newspaper. The knife was right there, on the coffee table, all that she needed to do was bring it to his neck.

Her hand shook, but as she neared him, her hand shook, she broke down and ran to her room, the stairs creaking as she did so.

What was she thinking!? She couldn't murder anyone, could she?

Her hand shook where she held the knife, as she curled under the covers with her sister. He had yet to come, and she had lost her only chance to protect Astoria.

Her cries rang out among the plains of Greengrass Manor, heard by no one.

—-

This was the first time her Uncle had left the Manor, and her sister was suffering for it, as he wanted his needs dealt with before.

When she heard to crack, signaling his disappearance, her anger finally broke. She screamed out to the heavens as a large strike of lightning struck her, and the energy poured off her in waves, knowingly allowing magic to act on her intent to kill the man, to take it and interfere in her uncles apparition.

Energy Built up, but before it was all unleashed she passed out on the floor, the damage repaired by Magic's caring hand, it's weakness for the girl evident.

Her parents arrived home later that night, with news of her uncle's death. When her sister explained why she was laughing, they took her to a man known only as NF. There, he crafted for them a potion, one that could only be made once every thousand years, and that he had only made twice. He had ale rot for them after the story, and his heart gave in, remembering Lord Shadeslayer's words. It's reaction was unique every time, and he refused to say who his previous patron was.

Once Astoria took the potion, she reverted back to her old sixth year body. He warned them it would not touch on memory, so they erased it with a simple spell.

**Their Time to Rule shall Come**

**But First Forces They must Overcome**

—-

Draco Malfoy, spoiled brat, lay in contemplation of his future. He was ten now, and never thought much of reading books. He didn't care for those lesser than himself, and intended to be the best friend of Harry Potter. He did not realize that this was a fools game, and would bring about his downfall.

Yet perhaps he stands a chance, all he must do is get away from his Fathers thumb.

**When One of Three Becomes Eternal**

**The Cursed One shall Pass on Mantle**

**—-**

**Tell me what you think, I hope I did well. R****eview plz! These lines seem superficial, but mean far more than you think. Apparently i need to state that, despite being a Prophecy, and thus having far more meaning than one.**

**"Got to?" said Dumbledore. "Of course you've got to! But not because of the prophecy! Because you, yourself, will never rest until you've tried! We both know it! Imagine, please, just for a moment, ****that you had never heard that prophecy! How would you feel about Voldemort now? Think!" - Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince**

**In short, they only mean what they are interpreted to mean, I have mine, perhaps you will have yours.**


	2. Rise of the Fallen

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI. Flames are unhelpful.**

Boom. The door slammed open as a pale man stepped into the room. He gazed around the apparent living quarters he had stepped into. He saw a trophy case, containing a Golden Snitch with the plaque under it reading 'Top Hogwarts Seeker'.

A new, striped, couch stood in the middle of the room in front of a hearth blazing with warmth, two padded and comfy looking armchairs next to it, all done in red and gold. There were 3 Doors leading off to different rooms, and as he looked around he became fully aware of the other presence nearing him.

He pulled out a long stick of wood, It was 13 ½ inches long, made of vine and yew, with a glow hanging about the tip. He heard yelling as the door opened with a powerful thud and a Man stood where it once was closed.

He had Raven hair, wire-rimmed glasses with a somewhat big shirt on and jeans. He pulled out his own stick, and it suddenly glowed with power as he shouted a word in latin. The Pale man simply swiped it aside with his own stick and sent an emerald green blast. The Man fell to the floor, never to wake.

As He walked up the steps, he felt a powerful presence suddenly appear nearby. The pale man needed to hurry if he wished to avoid too much trouble. Once he had reached the top step, there were 2 doors, and he walked to the one slightly ajar.

There stood a woman with fiery red hair, in a red blouse and jeans, and Bright green eyes. She set a young child down, a Baby. The slim, tall murderer grew a small frown, looking at the boys black hair and deep, intense green eyes. Such Innocence, twas a pity he needed to destroy him, such power also hidden deep in the depths of those eyes.

He turned back to the woman, who was in front of the child, begging desperately for him to spare it. He sneered, such weakness in front of the greatest man to ever live. He pulled out his stick and told the woman to step aside lest she be killed as well. Ignoring his growl, she begged over and over.

It pleased him, but he did not have time. The powerful presence from earlier was coming ever closer, and he needed this over and done with. He threw a glowing light at the woman, and she joined the raven haired man in death.

As he looked at the child, the presence was nearly upon him. He summoned his servant, a fat, short man with buck teeth and scraggly hair. He demanded he go and distract the presence, and turned back to the boy. Those mesmerising green eyes. He raised his stick, and threw the green light. Just as it was about to hit the boy, something insane happened, even for his own destroyed sanity.

The baby raised a chubby little hand, as if to catch the light, and a golden shield was erected. The pale man's eyes widened, it was impossible, nobody was that powerful, much less a baby! And yet the curse hit the shield and was thrown back at him. His body incinerated, along with half the cottage.

A small, dark light came at the boy, but before it could a voice called out "Est Face!" and it was stopped in its tracks. A Man with long, dark hair held out his own stick and took the light, touching it to a nearby sock.

Once it was in the sock, he incinerated it, and a scream was heard. He turned to the boy, then the body by him, and cried. He sobbed his heart out, desperately clinging to the body as his heart crumbled to pieces.

He set the body down, and looked at the boy. The emerald green eyes seemed to call to him as tears ran down his face. He got up and walked over to the boy, tears streaming a river out of his dark eyes. He picked up the boy, and stepped out of the cottage, still crying.

As soon as he had stepped out, and old man appeared out of nowhere. He smiled sadly at the dark haired man, and felt his heart reaching out for his loss. But he knew what needed to be done with the boy, for the greater good. He walked up to the man, and gently took the young baby. Once it was gone from the Man's arms it cried out, desperately calling for a Mother who would never come.

The dark haired man stood up from his position on the ground, where he had fallen after the child was taken. He looked upon the baby, who could have only been one at the eldest, and looked at his forehead. There it stood, a scar like no other, a lightning bolt heralding a new Era, one where things would certainly be different, whether for good or bad had yet to be determined.

The old man too, gazed at the child. Staring at his newly blemished forehead, he realised the calamity of it all. He stared at his own stick, 15 inches and made of elder. He put it to the boys head and felt the baby's magic, for that has been what has happened tonight. My Gods! The power was unimaginable! The potential unlimited! He knew what needed to be done, and he put a block over it, preventing him from accessing much of his power.

To imagine, even with this much he would be able to face the old man, and possibly even win, and it would only grow. He could never reach his full potential. Suddenly, a Large man appeared, summoned by the old man's magic. He was given the baby as the old man disappeared, to consider the events of the night.

_10 Years later..._

Harry Potter was, to put it simply, weird. Strange happenings everywhere he went. He could not fathom what this was, yet it was his fault. He knew that, for that was what he was always told. And the Dursley's word was Law. It is what is true, and it is what is false.

He personally compared these events to magic, but that was impossible, for magic does not exist. Over and over again he repeated this to himself, his own personal motto since it made the dursleys happy, but no matter how many times he was hit, beaten, slapped, drowned and kicked, no matter whether he wanted to or not, he could never believe this.

Magic had to be real, for if it wasn't, then he was truly what the dursleys said, a useless nuisance. But if magic was real, then it is his dreams come true. His life could be bearable, for he would be special. He has magic. He repeated that to himself as often as he did the other one. Maybe that is what prevented him from fully succumbing to the dursleys 'Teachings'.

He contemplated all this as he went to do the dishes, carefully taking a sponge to each one, spreading on and washing off soap. After they were finished, he set a pan on to cook when he heard a very loud screech.

"Boy, you best have Duddy's breakfast cooked, or you're dead!". His aunt Petunia. At least, that is what she demanded he call her. He personally prefered Horse-Faced Eagle. But that was an insult to horses and eagles.

He flipped the bacon around, boiled the eggs and turned on the kettle. Once the bacon was finished, eggs boiled, tea whistling and toast toasted, he heard what sounded like a large whale flopping down the stairs. He heard the heavy and nasally breathing of his Uncle. Once he had stepped into the kitchen, stared at the bacon and toast with beady eyes filled with greed, changing to disdain as he stared at his nephew.

He tossed a fist at the Harry, and he was knocked to the ground, glasses askew as he rubbed his head. The fat walrus grabbed him and threw him onto his feet. "Get the food on the table boy, or even worse will come for you!".

He waddled into the dining room as Harry set the food on the table, a purple bruise forming on his cheek. Petunia and Vernon Dursley sat down as the large man opened a newspaper, and the woman set down the presents next to the table.

A loud stomping was heard as a baby pig came into the room, and sat down at the table. He counted his presents as he chomped into the food, shoving it down an endless black hole of food.

"Ahh, Dudley, good man! Make sure to fill yourself, the Zoo won't be offering too much in the way of food, lest you wish to eat the Lions!" Vernon chuckled at his own joke as he went back to his newspaper.

Dudley simply counted the presents, picking them off one finger at a time. "Thirty six!? I got Thirty seven last year! Are you trying to scam me, my own parents!?" Dudley cried out in anger. Vernon chuckled, the boy was already learning the trade. Petunia wrapped herself around her son, which looked more like a rug on a bear.

"Don't worry dear, we'll stop by on the way home and get you two more presents, how does that sound?"

"Alright mum, but does the Freak have to come along? I don't want any of his freaky things to mess up my birthday!" Dudley whined. Harry simply rolled his eyes at his cousin's crocodile tears, honestly, how any of them could fall for that was beyond him, as he walked back to his cupboard. He tuned their voices out as the mail arrived. He looked at a rough yellow parchment, and picked it up.

_Mister H.J. Potter_

_The cupboard under the stairs_

_4\. Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey_

Now this was odd, he never got mail, except when he had an overdue book from the library, and this even specified what he was living in. He could hardly call it a room.

"Boy! The Mail!". He shoved the letter through the grate to his cupboard, and went back to the dining room, where his uncle was waiting with annoyance written all over his face.

"Mail, now boy! I haven't got all day!". Once he was given the mail, Harry was waved off, and he went back to his cupboard, locking it from the inside and opening his letter.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr/Ms. [Surname],

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

What!? This was impossible, after all, magic isn't real, isn't it? Although it would explain all the strange things that tend to occur around him. He looked at the second letter, and was only a little bit shocked.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL _of _WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2\. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4\. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_

_by Miranda Goshawk_

_A History of Magic_

_by Bathilda Bagshot_

_Magical Theory_

_by Adalbert Waffling_

_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_

_by Emeric Switch_

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_

_by Phyllida Spore_

_Magical Drafts and Potions_

_by Arsenius Jigger_

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_

_by Newt Scamander_

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_

_by Quentin Trimble_

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS

ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK!

Yours sincerely,

Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus

Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions

So, I guess it is time for him to go shopping.

He decided to go out to London and see if there was anything strange he might find that could help him. He got up and stuffed his letter in the oversized jeans pocket, and left the cupboard. He grabbed his stash of pounds from the creaky stair, which he had gotten from doing the other children's work. Contrary to his abysmal grades, he was actually quite intelligent.

A quirk of his was that he could remember everything up to his second birthday quite clearly, and although he had suspected an eidetic memory at first, It did not quite line up with it all, so he suspected magic had something to do with it. Since he could never be number one himself, as he always had to be behind Dudley lest he risk a beating, he decided to help the other students be number one, and revel in that glory.

He knew that the Dursleys were planning on going to the Zoo, and suspected he would not be missed if he left beforehand. So he set out, leaving the house as silently as a mouse, and prepared his walk to the station. He had 100 pounds saved up, hoping to escape this hellhole, and it seemed his wish had finally come true.

He walked up the the ticket man, and asked for, obviously, a ticket. "And who might you be, young man?" The ticket man asked.

"I am Harry potter sir, I need a ticket, you see, I am going over to my parents who are in western London, they left me behind with my babysitter but I need to see them immediately" He lied easily.

"Alright, I guess this one, but I should not see you again without your parents, you understand?" The ticket man warned.

"Yes sir, thank you, sir."

Once he had hopped on the train, he looked around, and immediately spotted an oddly dressed man in robes. He dismissed it, and continued to watch the scenery pass by. Once the train stopped, he slipped through the crowd, using his shorter stature and skinny body to his advantage.

After he had cleared through them all, he walked around western london. He had spotted an odd building when he had visited here once before, and aimed to try and see it again.

He wandered around, carefully avoiding others briefcases as he walked along the street. Suddenly he saw a buck-toothed and bushy haired girl and who seemed to be her mother as they looked in all directions, seemingly trying to find something.

He spotted a thick yellow envelope in the girls hand, and quickly put two and two together. He ran over, intent on striking up a conversation, to see if they could help him find it.

"Hello! I'm Harry, are you going to Hogwarts too?" Since it was a busy saturday, nobody paid him any attention.

"Why yes, actually, I'm looking for a place called Diagon Alley, do you know where it is?" The girls asked.

"Afraid not, i've only just got my letter a couple hours ago, and was wondering where to buy this stuff"

"Really, because I got the deputy headmistress herself come over to my house to explain things, she even showed me some magic!" the girls explained excitedly.

"I dunno, I only got my letter through the mail slot, nobody came tell me anything" He said, quite confused now.

"But I did remember seeing an odd building, it was like nobody else saw it, I thought I might start there, but I can't seem to find it"

"Hello sweetie, I hope you don't mind, but what's your name, and where are you parents?" The girls mother asked him, finally butting into the conversation.

"My parents are dead, ma'am, I live with my uncle, aunt and cousin now" Harry replied solemnly.

"Oh I'm sorry dear, well why don't you come along with us, i'm sure we can find the alley together, and then maybe we can talk about your living arrangements, they clearly aren't satisfactory. Now, this is Hermione, and I am Emma Granger" Mrs. Granger told him, as she grabbed his hand, not missing the angry purple bruise on his cheek, realizing that his situation may not be best. You didn't have to be a Harvard psychologist to see that They walked along the street, looking out for an out of place store.

Finally, Hermione spotted an odd building, and pointed it out to the rest. "I'm not sure dear, there doesn't seem to be anything there" Mrs. Granger questioned skeptically.

"No no, Mrs Granger, I see it too, it's called the Leaky Cauldron, maybe only those with magic can see it!" Harry exclaimed happily.

"I Suppose" she responded, still unsure about the situation.

As soon as they stepped into the door, Mrs. Grangers eyes widened in surprise as the surroundings suddenly changed, and a light filled pub overcame the crowded streets. She turned back and stared out the windows, looking at all the passersby, not even glancing at the small pub. She turned back and introduced herself to the man, along with Hermione and Harry.

As soon as Potter had left his mouth, all eyes in the room flew to him, widening as they all gazed at his forehead, trying to see the scar, but Harry currently had it covered.

Quickly Tom, as the barman introduced himself, took them to the back as suddenly all the people were clambering over themselves to get to him, but they managed to get out into the back in time, and the man took out a stick.

_'A wand, Harry'_ He corrected himself, and he watched as the bricks retracted themselves with an open mouth, amazed.

They stepped out, Harry still holding Mrs. Granger hand and gaping at all the different sights, all sorts of people walking by, with robes and hats you would see on a stereotypical drawing of a Witch. He saw all sorts of different names, but halted when he saw a giant marble and gold triangular building, and immediately was interested.

He dragged the Grangers along, and finally made it up a path after passing a bookstore, broomstore, apothecary, magical menagerie and all sorts of weird stuff.

There, inscribed on the front was Gringotts Bank, and as they headed past the marble columns, up snow white stairs and to a set of burnished bronze doors. Standing by them was a strange creature, it was pale and wrinkly, with a long, hooked nose and beady little eyes, in a set of red and gold robes.

They entered the doors, passing the creature warily, and into a small entrance hall, with black and white tiled floor. It had another set of doors, these ones silver, and inscribed on them was

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

It sent a shiver of fear down his back, his mind racing with the possibilities of what might lay in store for those who do steal. He opened the silver doors, and for the nth time, the Grangers and Harry had their jaws wide open in awe.

There were creatures everywhere, measuring gold, rubies, pounds, even a set of bronze balls were being searched by a creature. As they walked in, a gruff voice called them out.

"Well, Wizards? What do you want?" They turned their heads and saw one of the goblins with a monocle in his eye staring at them with a permanent frown seemingly fixated on his face.

They walked up the them, and Mrs. Granger opened her mouth. "Hello, I was wondering whether or not we could exchange some pounds for wizarding money?"

"Go over to Griphook over there" He pointed to one of the creatures who had black hair and was especially short in stature.

"And what do you need boy? He asked Harry, leaning down and staring at him through his monocle.

The Grangers had already left with Griphook, and he was alone. For some reason, he felt the need to bow in front of it, and once he had done so, for his instincts were never wrong, the creature smiled down at him.

"It seems you have some manners boy, good. I assume you know not of the wizarding world?"

"No sir, I just got my letter, i live with my relatives you see, and have no idea what is going on. I don't even know what being you are" Harry responded politely.

"I am a goblin, and judging by you manners and story, you are clearly a Potter, only good wizarding family out there left. Do you have your key?"

"Key, sir? I didn't think I even had an account, I was going to trade in my pounds for some money" The goblin frowned, obviously something was wrong, and Harry felt a little worried.

"First, would you drop a bit of blood in here, I need to verify your identity" The goblin pulled out a knife, and harry delicately pricked his finger,wincing a bit and dropping it into a wooden bowl the goblin brought up. Once he did so, the goblin took the bowl of blood and poured it onto a paper.

After confirming he was indeed Harry Potter, He got up and demanded Harry come with him. "Where are we going, sir?"

"To see your account manager, something wrong is going on" Harry was a little worried at these words, and started to bite his fingernails, a habit he had gained over the years. He immediately spat them out, knowing it would lead him nowhere but trouble.

They walked down an intricate hallway, passing ornate golden doors until they happened upon the final pair, with two Griffins roaring at each other, one at the top right, the other at the top left. Swords clashed on the bottom left, and finally a Lion roared in the bottom right. Over it all was the word Potter, and below the crest were the words: Audaces fortuna iuvat. Fortune Favors the Bold.

The door creaked open, and there sat an old Goblin, with graying hair around his head, wrinkles everywhere and the longest nose Harry had ever seen. As he walked inside, the other goblin left, closing the door with an audible slam.

Harry sat in the chair, and the old goblin looked up. He squinted his eyes through his spectacles with a frown on his face. After a few minutes of scrutiny, which made Harry feel incredibly awkward, the goblin finally spoke in the deepest and gruffiest voice he had ever know in his short life, "Hello, Harry Potter. I, am Kragrakk, your account manager. You are late for your appointment."

**R&R plz!**


	3. Dawn

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

The door creaked open, and there sat an old Goblin, with graying hair around his head, wrinkles everywhere and the longest nose Harry had ever seen. As he walked inside, the other goblin left, closing the door with an audible slam. Harry sat in the chair, and the old goblin looked up. He squinted his eyes through his spectacles with a frown on his face. After a few minutes of scrutiny, which made Harry feel incredibly awkward, the goblin finally spoke in the deepest and gruffiest voice he had ever known in his short life, "Hello, Harry Potter. I, am Kragrakk, your account manager. You are late for your appointment."

"Uh, I'm sorry sir, I did not realise I had an appointment, I only came to trade the few pounds I have to some wizarding money, to be honest, I know incredibly little about the wizard's culture." Harry said, nervously.

"Well, this is cause for concern, you magical guardian should have informed you immediately of this case, well no matter, I guess we should begin." Kragrakk responded. "We shall start at the very beginning, since you must understand all to be able to learn. The founder, Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw were the four greatest wizards of their time, having learnt under Merlin himself.

"Once they had finished their tutelage, they begun to think about all the other wizards and witches ou their who have no idea what or who they are, and decided that must change. As a result, they constructed Hogwarts, named by Hufflepuff, and started accepting students, going far and wide. As they taught at the school, something truly sad happened.

"Ravenclaw's husband, Godric's Wife and Salazar's brother were killed by muggles. You see, Hufflepuff had not married at the time, and realised the depth of her friends losses, and so sent them on their way to grieve. During this time, Salazar's wife birthed a young girl, but Salazar was too buried in his grief to care for the child, and asked Hufflepuff to care for it.

"Hufflepuff agreed, and the child was raised a true Hufflepuff, and over time the founders finally forgot their grief, but not after Gryffindor fell into a rage and murdered the entire village of muggles with Salazar at his back. Once they returned to the school, Salazar's daughter was already a 5th year, and her true heritage had yet to be revealed.

"Godric's wife had birthed a son before her untimely death, who was a fourth year at the time, and it turned out Salazar and Godric's children had begun a relationship. This brought the already close as brothers men even closer, so much that they made a blood pact. Unfortunately, As seemed so often to happen, tragedy had struck.

"By this time the founders were an old two hundred years old, and their once prime selves had degraded. One of Salazar's sons, of three, had gone rogue and had begun attacking muggle villages in his grief for his uncle, whom he had never known. Saddened by this, Salazar struck out on his own, to find his son and talk him out of this. Godric attempted to follow, but Salazar promised his brother he would come back, and disappeared. By the time Godric had learnt of his demise, he had already become two hundred and fifty years of age, and the stress of losing his brother killed him.

"During this, Hufflepuff had grown close to Ravenclaw, whose daughter had died long ago and attempted to comfort her. But with all the death and grief in her life, she fell at a bare two hundred and twenty. After all this, Hufflepuff, the youngest of the four, had decided it was finally her time, and set out to stop Salazar's rogue son, but before she was even finished with her room, a siege was launched. Hogwarts was attacked, and she was alone, with all her greatest friends fallen. She fought with true bravery, cunning, wit and loyalty, dying a heroic death, managing to plunge Godric's sword through the Man's heart, as the death curse left his lips.

"Godric's son and Salazar's daughter learned of Hufflepuffs death and were determined to hold up her legacy. They buried her body and hid the sword of Gryffindor in an ancient relic who's name is lost to time, and it is said only he who embraces the four traits may pull it out. To be especially careful, they put an ancient magic that could never be replicated, on all wizards and witches of Britain, so that their lines would embrace the traits that truly represented them, even their own line. As a result, when that true heir is born, he will fully and completely accept and embrace those 4 traits, and become Heir Hogwarts.

"Later on, after their death, the descendents of Gryffindor and Slytherin searched far and wide, seeking the relic that would give them the sword. Somewhere along the way, the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw heirs all married into the family, making them Hogwarts in all but name. As time went on, the last heir of the Peverell's, a young girl, married into the family, and since they wanted to keep their privacy, they hid their titles and names in one, and so the House of Poterimus was born. Over time this name changed to Potter, to give it a more modern typing. It was your great great grandfather who changed that name.

"You, Harry Potter, are truly, Hadrian James Poterimus, Heir Hogwarts and Peverell, but of course that is only if the family magic accepts you. To confirm it, you need to take an inheritance test. It is simply taking a drop of blood and pouring it on this special piece of parchment, do you agree?"

"Well, I see no real downsides, so I suppose so…" Harry agreed somewhat reluctantly. Kragrakk smiled a wide, toothy smile that sent slight shivers of fear down Harry's back. He pulled out a wooden bowl similar to the one the teller goblin had. He also pulled out a knife, although this one was much more intricate, with a dragons head at the end of the handel, opening up it's jaw and giving way to the blade as if it's tongue.

Harry carefully slid it along his palm, and the cut healed after several drops fell into the bowl. Kragrakk then pulled out a yellow parchment, that did not seem to have any special qualities about it other than a seemingly small glow, although that could have been a trick of the light. Once the blood was poured on, soaking the parchment it was seemingly absorbed and it glowed a bright red as it slowly wrote down the details of his inheritance.

_Harrison(Harry) James Poterimus(Potter)_

_Parents: Lily J. Potter(née Evans) and James C. Poterimus(Potter)_

_Notable Ancestors: Ignatius Peverell, Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, Phineas N. Black_

_Magical Core: 100-60% Blocked_

_Magical Abilities:_

_Parseltongue-Magic-Natural_

_Animagus-Natural(Blocked)_

_Occlumency-Natural(Partially Blocked)_

_Legilimency-Partial(Blocked)_

_Magical Resistance-Developed-50%(Obliviation)_

_Seer-Partial_

_Magic-Pure_

_Type-Light-Grey_

_Affinities:_

_Defense: Natural_

_Charms: Master_

_Transfiguration: Natural_

_Alchemy: Master_

_Heir-Potter, Black(2nd), Gryffindor(Locked), Slytherin(Locked), Hufflepuff(Locked), Ravenclaw(Locked), 3M47$(Locked)_

"Woah…" Harry had lost his breath at this, to think, he had so many abilities? And what exactly did blocked mean?

Meanwhile, Kragrakk was frowning slightly at the results. Don't get him wrong, he was excited that the young heir had quite a few abilities and affinities, but the block shouldn't be possible, should have been removed. He ran a discrete scan and it proved to all be true. Strange, who would have done such a thing…

"So… what does this all mean?" Harry asked politely, a bit confused by it all. I mean, it's not all the time you find your a Seer, although the rest confused him.

"Well, let's start with titles. You do hold all the titles We suspected, although Black is an unexpected yet welcomed surprise, likely due to your grandmother, Dorea Black. Potter was a given, and to claim the title of Hogwarts you need to find the sword of Gryffindor. I can't seem to understand this last one, but if it is what I suspect it to be, you must claim Hogwarts before this one.

"The next are magical affinities, which should be obvious enough, it is which magics you are especially suited to. These are only a few of the many subjects, but still… most only have 1, perhaps 2. Not only do you have 4, you have 2 Naturals! Anyone is lucky for simply one, but you truly are an exceptional Wizard! That's not to say you aren't amazing at others, these just come to you better and you will have to work less, practically at least.

Next, you magic. The Pure thing is strange, most have some form of tainted magic, no matter what, but somehow. A Unique wizard you truly are, Mr. Potter. Your own magic is Light-Grey, meaning, while your magic is leaning the most towards the grey, a middle ground of Dark and Light, you do have somewhat light magic, allowing you an especial affinity for Light-based magics.

"Your abilities are somewhat confusing, but to put it simply, you can talk to snakes, turn into some form of animal, are especially well done at protecting your mind and can see into others, although without an accompanying spell only emotions are going to be the ones you truly feel. The magical resistance is self-explanatory, you've been subject to them so many times you've developed a protection.

Finally your magical core, your sheer power. And my god's do you have power. Merlin himself was clocked at 300, and even the most powerful nowadays are maybe 100. Dumbledore himself is 200 at his old age, as was Grindelwald, with Voldemort at his Apex clocking in about 225. You almost rival the most powerful of the modern era and it is blocked. Truly amazing. If you wish, I can come with a magical healer, who can remove these blocks?"

"Please sir, I have a feeling it might not be good to keep them as such." Harry responded quickly and politely. He was slightly worried on what these might do, his growth was already stunted as it was due to a lack of food and a dark cupboard to sleep in. He could not do so to his magic.

The Goblin called out in some form of growling language, and five minutes later another goblin came in, this one wearing colourful robes, and holding a very tall staff. The goblin had him lay down on the floor and take off his clothes. He blushed, modesty being very strong in him. The goblin took out a strange vial containing a gold liquid, and carefully marked strange drawings all over his body.

Harry suddenly felt very sleepy, and as his eyes closed he felt a strange glow as the goblins gasped in surprise. Suddenly he felt energy coursing through his body, almost painfully. He felt re-energized, awake and alert as a Meerkat. He stood, and suddenly felt wobbly as the ground felt so much farther below him.

"It's incredible, I have never seen such perfect results. I knew that your magic would heal your body, but to such standards as this is unheard of." The giblin called out in awe. Kragrakk couldn't say a word, as he stared up at the young boy who had grown so much, and was radiating power beyond belief.

Suddenly the goblins bowed, and Harry was incredibly uncomfortable. "What are you doing?" he asked nervously, not wanting to offend them.

"Goblins respect power, and you have so much… It is beyond belief. Even Ragnok himself could not rival this." Kragrakk gasped out, practically choking on the raw power being let out by the boy.

Harry suddenly felt dizzy, and was close to teetering off. He closed his eyes to reign in his power, and was simply stunned. Amazing… But he focused once again, and pulled it into the silver ocean. He felt his suddenly organised mind, and decided to explore it for a second, searching through all the strange books. As it got older and older, he noticed the tome's seemed to get darker and darker, but he pulled out of his mind, the time for in-depth exploration was later.

"Mr. Potter, if I may, you may have raw power, but it cannot hope to match the skill and experience of ones such as Dumbledore. To help, I would like to recommend some books, as well as an especially sought after wandmaker." Kragrakk growled, the healer had already left in his awe.

"I guess sir, but I don't know if I have enough gold for all that." Harry responded anxiously, he was still somewhat nervous after all this, but found he could keep his face impassive much easier now, maybe it had something to do with that Occlumency power?

"Ah yes, I almost forgot, we need to check your finances now." Kragrakk responded impatiently as he pulled out another document and waved his hand over it. "According to this, you have 23 million galleons, which is 115,000,000 pounds. Essentially, neither you nor your children will never have to worry, and if you would allow me, I can invest. That of course, is only available to the Lord Potter, so you would have to attempt it, although as the Last Potter and truly being the Heir, it should not be a problem. All you must do is try on this ring."

As he said this, he pulled out a red and gold velvet box that was practically shining. He opened it and there stood a gold ring with a bright ruby on top of it. Carved inside the ruby were three words: Audaces Fortuna Iuvat. Harry reached over and plucked it off, examining it. On the underside of the gold ring, were various symbols, all seemingly representing something. He carefully pushed it onto his right hand's ring finger, and with a flash it resized itself onto his own.

"Very good, now, take this paper and get these books as well as go to this wandmaker, it will be very helpful. I also mut give you this, it will work anywhere, even the muggle world. I must also tell you that you may not access more than money and some specifically mentioned objects in your parents will until you reach your 14th Birthday.

"One last thing, your family owned a variety of different houses, to go to Potter Manor you must simply twist the ruby and call out it's name. To go to one of your Cottages, simply call out Potter Cottage. It will take you to one of them. Make sure you remember that." As he said this he pulled out various objects, handing to him a list, as well as a gold card, which he recognized as similar to the muggle ones.

Harry stood up to leave, and the goblin walked over from his desk. He now stood at a proud 5'2, incredibly tall for his age. He shook the goblins hand with a smile, and left the office. People stared at him as the left the bank, intent on finding his needed material.

_**Goblin Kragrakk-POV**_

I watched the young boy leave proudly, knowing he would do well. I immediately signed off on the investments I had ready, and got up to go over to Ragnok's office. I was let in by the familiar growling sound of my race and sat in a chair in front of a desk with a goblin older than even my own age.

Ragnok, King of the Goblins, was a proud 200, and had served the goblin bank for 100 years, and was intent on another 100. As he stared up at Ragnok's imposing sight, the goblin let out a deep and proud growl.

"How is the boy, Kragrakk? Well, I hope, since i felt a gigantic influx of magic even more powerful than my own." Ragnok said, intently staring down at the goblin.

"He is fine, milord, He registered a 220 on the test, his magic is pure, he has an incredible number of affinities, and his abilities are truly powerful." Ragnok said, reminiscing and still in awe of the boy.

"Well, continue to keep watch over the boy, Kragrakk, he may be the key to a revolution, a truly new world, one where all beings are fair." Ragnok ordered, and as Kragrakk left, he thought once again on the influx he felt. If his power continues to grow, We may very well be facing a whole new World."

_**Normal POV-Harry**_

Harry turned into flourish and blotts, collecting his books. He had yet to see the Grangers, but considering how long may have been spent in the bank, he thought they may very well have gone home.

He checked all the books of both lists, and went over to the counter, carefully holding the very tall stack of books. Once he had set them on the counter, the man checked them off carefully and reached out for payment. Harry handed over the card and once the books were paid for, the man waved his wand and shrunk them all, and carefully wrapped a leather binding over them all. Harry watched in awe inside, but on the outside he simply stayed calm and impassive. He put them in his pocket and went on his way out. He was heading towards the nearby robe shop when suddenly he felt a presence nearby that did not match the others. He ignored the fact that he had never noticed this ability before and simply looked. There was Kragrakk, running over with a document in hand, fear etched on his face.

"Lord Potter, you must see this quickly, it is incredibly important." Harry found all this odd, from what he saw about the goblins, they would never lead their bank. He took the document, and simply stared, stunned. There was quite a bit of info, but it summed up to:

_Marriage Contract_

_Between: Lord Kieran Greengrass and Lord Charlus Poterimus(Potter)_

_Current Subjects: Daphne Greengrass(11) and Hadrian Poterimus(Potter)(11)_

_Cause: Settle Life Debt, Protect Fortunes_

_Clauses: Both Subjects MUST remain Virgin. Marriage must occur on the 17th birthday of the Second subject. Neither Family other than the specified subject will touch the others fortunes lest face repercussions before and after time of marriage._

_Signed:_

_Lord Kieran Greengrass_

_Lord Charlus Potter_

_Witnesses:_

_Lady Leto Greengrass_

_Lady Dorea Black_

"What the…" Harry's eyes bulged and slivers of fear entered his doby as he recognized the name of his Grandfather and Grandmother.

"I am sorry Lord Potter, but there is nothing We can do. You must marry Miss Greengrass by your 17th Birthday at the very latest, or risk losing your Fortune and magic, along with the fortune and magic of Miss Greengrass." Kragrakk said, sympathy resounding in his voice.

"But, what if one of us were to… you know…" Harry insinuated, wincing at the crude statement. But the sliver of hope he had fell at the sorrowful face on the goblins face.

"I am sorry, but it is written in blood, meaning magic accepted it, and as such neither of you will be able to commit any sort of sexual act unless with each other, magic deems it so. I am afraid that you will never be able to break the contract, the only way it ends is if one of you were to die I am afraid." Kragrall simply looked upon him with sympathy.

"I understand, thank you Kragrakk, but I must reflect over all this on my own." Harry responded somewhat blandly as he walked away, Kragrakk simply stared off after the boy. Once Harry reached the robes shop, he walked in and a nearby woman walked up.

"Here for your Hogwarts robes dear? Come on then" She lead him to a nearby stool and set him up on it. She began measuring with a tape, writing down the numbers as it whizzed by.

"Actually Ma'am, I need a whole new wardrobe, I have outgrown all my old clothes." Harry responded nervously, worried about what the woman would think. Man, he really needs to work on that, He has been nervous for almost his entire time in the wizarding world.

"Wonderful! This is what I took the job for! I definitely think Emerald green, maybe some silver and gold. Red simply won't do, It would clash too much. You best not get into Gryffindor, young man!. A sapphire blue might work well, with some darker silver linings over it. Definitely. Hmm… Ravenclaw would probably work best. Slytherin an easy secondary" She considered all sorts of different colours, going back and forth.

He finally finished, actually tired from simply standing and sitting as he tried on all sorts of different clothes. Overall, it added up to 500 Galleons, but he left feeling incredibly satisfied. He walked over to the apothecary nearby, and bought his cauldron along with all the needed ingredients and gloves. He bought the telescope, Vials and scales.

He walked over to the menagerie, excited to finally get a pet. As he walked the shelves, he noticed a nearby area filled with snakes of all different sizes. But then he noticed something strange. A large egg that glowed with power and heat. It was a dark gold with slight greenish tints in some spots. Suddenly, the menagerie worker came up and pointed to the egg.

"Ya want it? I'm not really sure what it is, but if I am right, and if it does hatch for you, you will be one incredibly lucky wizard, not to mention a powerful one at that, considering if I AM right, it only hatches for Wizards of a power level of 140 or more." He said, looking questionably at the young boy. He doubted he was right, since the species he suspected it was had gone extinct.

"I'll take it" He said hesitantly, a little bit wary about the egg. The Man took the egg and put it carefully into a bag. Harry took it, and walked over to the counter, paying for it and nearly walking out before a small white egg also caught his eye. He paid for it as well and finally left the store. He proudly carried the two bags that were feather-light and soft while aso warm for both eggs.

He walked over to the wandmaker recommended by Kragrakk, a dark shop hidden in one corner of the alley. As he stepped in, a bell sounded from inside the shop. A man walked over, and considered him for a second.

"I, am Leonardo, wandmaker extraordinaire. And you, Harry Potter, are truly unique. I have a feeling I know exactly what wand is perfect for you." He walked to the back of his shop, and pulled out a beautiful box, and opened it with a cloud dust as a wand of no match was shown.

"This wand was crafted by one of my ancestors, and while nowadays wandmakers work with only one core and one wood, back then they used two of each. This is the last of those wands, all have since died or lost their power. However, this one remained stubborn, waiting for it's perfect match, and I believe that to be you." Leonardo said, leaving Harry in awe of the potential this had.

What is it made of, sir?" Harry asked, a little proudly at the fact that this might very well be his wand. But then again, could he be wrong? Only one way to find out.

"It is made of Vine and Aspen for wood, not an unusual combination for it's time, but incredibly rare now. My own line has barely seen 3 owners of these wands in the last 1,000 years, and its core may be even more unusual. It has Nundu claw and a Graphorn's... horn as cores, with the blood of both the animals mixed into the wood, allowing for it to settle, and it may very well be the most unique and powerful wand ever sold, so I ask you to use it wisely if it should choose you"

Harry did not know how to respond, and simply took it out, an emerald green twisting around a dark gray, and as he did, it let out a bright flash of magic. He paid the simple 100 Galleons and left the shop, still in shock. With his wand in the holster he had bought as well, his pockets filled with all the supplies, clothes and eggs, he twisted the ruby and whispered Potter Manor.

And with that, after looking at the Manor once, the shock of the day combined with the newly bred shock of looking upon his new house, he fainted dead on the ground. And once he had, a strange creature with long, floppy ears, droopy face, tennis ball eyes and a kimono with the potter crest on it took his hand and teleported him to the master bedroom to sleep.

**Review plz!**

**Edit: Changed how much money he has, because apparently people hate it when he's filthy rich. I mean, he still is, just not to the degree he's in top 0.01%. Besides, he can work up more money as a future plot point. Also, It felt like a bit much even for me. Srsly, review if you actually have something that bothers you, it might even bother me and I haven't noticed!**


	4. The Call

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

* * *

** Just FYI.)**

And with that, after looking at the Manor once, the shock of the day combined with the newly bred shock of looking upon his new house, he fainted dead on the ground. And once he had, a strange creature with long, floppy ears, droopy face, tennis ball eyes and a kimono with the potter crest on it took his hand and teleported him to the master bedroom to sleep.

When Harry finally woke up, it was quite late in the morning, and the sun was shining quite brightly into his window. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking away the tiredness, when he felt a sudden presence in front of him. He attempted to reach out for his glasses when he realized he had no need for them, and really looked at the creature.

"What are you?" He asked, since it was all his tired mind could think of at the time. He was still groggy and he still could not quite believe that he was away from the Dursleys.

"I am a House Elf, young master. My name is Barry, I am here to assist you in your recovery this morning. We House Elves are born to serve. Myself and a great many elves work for the Potter family." Barry said, staring up at the boy.

"Well Barry, I need your help, could you walk me around the Manor, and teach me some stuff?" Harry asked, quickly regaining his bearings and remembering the other day.

"I am sure I can, young master, now this is the Master Bedroom, and it is now your own…" As Barry continued, He lead him through the house, showing him the main rooms. The master bedroom was a nice burgundy and gold, the hangings a beautiful combination of ruby red and sparkling gold, with the Potter family motto painted over the head.

The Informal and Formal dining room were incredibly similar, although the formal one was much bigger, and did not have any pictures or paintings of the Potter family. They both had burgundy walls and a dark gold table, with a constant circle of red and gold on the ceiling.

They moved onto the living room, with gold chairs, burgundy couches all centered around a warm fireplace. It had nice end tables on both sides, with red tinted glass on golden legs. The coffee table had the opposite, with a dark gold glass and ruby red legs. The walls were a beautiful dark red, and the ceiling a warm orange.

Finally he was led to the library, an area within the home that took up part of several floors, a very tall space filled with rows upon rows of books. As he looked through them, Barry brought him to the very bottom of the library, filled with all sorts of dusty books, and handed him the Poterimus family grimoire. He decided to study it to the best of his ability.

_**Time Skip- 1 Month**_

Over the course of the month, Harry had read and studied all the Poterimus family books. He was well ahead of schedule, going into the Third year studies, although The was unsure in the practical application. Sure, theoretically since he is good in theory he should be good in practice, but writing about something and doing it are very different things. He was still very excited for the school, but he was not in denial that he may very well not be the best.

In other news, his eggs had hatched! The golden one with green spots turned out to be a Romanian Longhorn dragon, thought to have gone extinct some years ago. He had bonded with the creature, and her name was Gracie. Stupid name, yes, but it quite fit her.

She had started small, but had grown quite a bit and was as large as a van, able to even lift him in the air. Her horns had grown a large amount, and curved outward like a bulls. She was a dark emerald green, with her claws and horns being a bright gold.

She was sentient, and he was able to communicate with her via parseltongue and telepathy, whichever she was in the mood for at the time. She had now taken to calling him hatchling, and was quite affectionate. She was very witty and intelligent, yet caring and soft, even for one her size.

While he knew she could not officially be at Hogwarts, she would still come with and be in the grounds, waiting for him. He wouldn't bother to keep her a secret, especially since it would be incredibly hard. No, the others would either have to accept her or get burned alive by her then kicked to death again by him.

The second egg hatched a baby barn owl, But he realized quite quickly she was no ordinary owl. Once she had reached 2 weeks, she burst into flame and out of the ashes burst a pure white Phoenix. He was overjoyed and loved to spoil the young bird, and she cared for him with all her love.

She would be his official pet, and although she had a habit of spontaneous combustion, she would bring him great respect, and her habit of setting herself on fire with white flame might come in handy against would-be attackers.

Harry, as soon as time had allowed, read Tales of Beatle the Bard, fascinated by the Three Brothers, and Babbitty Rabbity. After reading the Poterimus Grimoir, summoned his cloak from a very irate Headmaster, not that he knew.

He had visited all the Potter properties by now, and met all the House Elves. There was Barry, and Perry with Gerry and Sally working at the manor, with Yarry, Queen, King, Larry, Sherry, Hairy and Hectoncolidies all interspersed throughout the rest of them. He personally had King and Queen working for him, the young elf couple had cried when he said they could all have children, no exceptions.

The family finances were all in order, being worked on by Kragrakk, and all the investments were going well. He had tutored under the goblin for two weeks, and was now well versed in the laws and customs of both wizards and goblins. He had even learned a bit of Gobbledygook.

He had contacted the Greengrass Family about the contract, and it had gone rather well. He had yet to meet Daphne, but she was well aware of the contract and had sent him a few letters. After clearing up some misconceptions about what she thought would be required if her as his wife, they had gotten along quite well. He was excited to meet her, and she him.

So it was with all this that he stood in front of his mirror, King beside him helping him with his clothes. He wanted to look professional but not so much he would seem stuck up. So far he had a pair of black slacks with an emerald green button down shirt, the buttons a sweet silver, the edges of the collar, around the arms, wrists and the hem sharing the same colour.

He stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his sleeves so they were folded up around his elbows. King looked, nodded and left with barely a sound. Hurry grabbed his trunk, book bag, called Hedwig, what he had taken to calling the Phoenix after Hogwarts, a History, and left his room without a speck

As he closed it, he once again looked upon the golden nameplate that held his name with some level of pride and happiness, that he not only had his own room, but home, friends, family and now school. He walked down the steps, passing bedroom upon bedroom, and finally reached the ground floor, leaving the entrance hall that had burgundy walls, solid gold floor, filled with portraits, different bits of china and some bookshelves.

Once he entered the informal dining room, filled with all his favorite treats made by Barry and Sally, he sat down at the head of the table and began to eat. He read the daily prophet as he did so, the headline titled: Boy-Who-Lived coming to Hogwarts! He sniffed, laughing at the fools and picture of him from one of the books.

They depicted him with dark hair, short as heck, glasses and emerald green eyes. They had nailed the hair and the eyes, but he now lacked his aviators, choosing instead for square lenses, causing a major shift in his appearance, and his height, while still 5'2, is great for his age and was certain to be towering over most his year. He is quite pale, although the lightest tan prevented him from it being unattractive. His cheekbones had gone out and his jawline slightly strengthened giving him an aristocratic look, one of high society. Also, his scar, which was red and prominent in the picture, was a faded line, and generally only shows when he scrunched his face into a deep frown.

Perhaps the biggest shift was his weight. He was by no means fat, but instead of skin and bones he had truly gained some muscle. Not freaky muscular, but enough that it was distinct and allowed him to really fill out.

His personality had changed a lot, what with his occlumency coming in full and learning of his place in the world. There were 30 top of the chain families, and only 10 remained. Poterimus, Longbottom, Bones, Lestrange, Black, Abbot, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin were the last ones. Since no one was aware that he had claim over the founders houses, there were thought to only have 6 left, and Lestrange was already due for extinction with no heir. Peverell was the highest but it was also believed extinct.

Greengrass, Davis, Malfoy and a quite a few others were a step below, and the rest were unimportant to him. For Harry, as Lord of house Poterimus, he had to bow to only the Longbottom, Bones, Black and Abbot Elders, Lestrange was disgraced so while they were high, they were treated as though below. Once he gained his other titles though, everyone would have to bow to him.

He finished the paper and his breakfast, walked over to the floo, and with a voice that had undergone most of its maturity, as puberty was earlier in magicals, though it took longer. He called out "Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Kings Cross!"

He stepped out, all his items appeared next to him thanks to King, and he walked over to the scarlet engine.

He wandered the halls until he found an empty compartment, and put his things in the rack above, having already pulled out his book. He began reading, occasionally handing a treat to Hedwig.

Suddenly his door opened, and there stood Hermione, heaving a heavy trunk.

"Hello, sir, could you help me with this?" She asked, out of breath as she held a hand to her chest.

"Hermione? Of course I can, hows it going?" Harry asked, slightly excited at seeing his friend. They had exchanged the occasional letter via her owl, Queenie. He found the name quite hilarious when he finally met his elf.

"Harry? What's happened to you!? You look so different! It's cool! And is that a Phoenix, those are supposed to be rare, and only hatch for those who are destined for great things! I am incredibly jealous!" She said, eyes widened as she took him in.

"Well, turns out I had a whole bunch of blocks on my person, so the elves removed them and I changed a whole bunch!" Harry said, "Also, her name is Hedwig, I found her egg, she was thought to be a barn owl, which she did hatch as one, then became a Phoenix, I truly love her."

"Alright well, I do see your dressed, would you mind leaving the compartment for a second so I can change?" She asked politely, pleading in her eye.

"Of course, just knock when I am good to come in" he said, stepping out and standing guard. As he stood there, he saw a family of redheads come through the barrier, looking around like hawks. He was immediately suspicious, and hid his face in the shadows cast by the compartments, away from the windows.

She finally knocked, and he went in, as they both began their books, occasionally asking a clarifying question from the other, and Harry continued to feed Hedwig.

Unfortunately, the young boy from the red-headed family slammed open the door and looked around. Harry noticed he had a bit of dirt on his nose.

"Hello, is Harry Potter in here?" He asked, loudly and quite roughly.

"I am Harrison Poterimus and this is Hermione Granger, does that answer your question?" Harry responded, immediately wary of the boy, knowing he can only lead to trouble. It would not help if he knew wizarding history, for everyone who knew the history knew Poterimus had been changed to Potter, but for some reason he doubted the boy was very intelligent.

"Ahhh, well, lets hope it's the next one, eh?" He answered, a grin on his face as he looked between them, and seeing no reaction, slammed the door and moved on.

"Why did you say your name was Harrison Poterimus, Harry?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Well, to be truthful it is, Harry is just short for Hadrian and the Poterimus family chnaged their own to Potter. I simply figured he wouldn't know wizarding history, based on his appearance, and I was right" He answered, still hiding his giant secret.

She simply nodded and continued reading her book, and Harry himself went back to his routine. Unfortunately, it seemed it peace and quiet for them was not meant to be.

The door was shoved open by a blonde haired boy, who Harry immediately recognized as the Malfoy heir from Daphne's descriptions, and knew she was not lying when she described him as an arrogant, pompous ass who could be famous for the sheer amount of hair gel in his own hair. Beside him were two burly looking boys who seemed like they might share one brain cell between the two combined.

"I hear Harry Potter is in this compartment, is it true?" He asked, the sheer amount of arrogance his voice held practically pushed Harry back.

"I am Harrison Poterimus, this is Hermione Granger, does that answer your question?" He asked in the same fashion as the red-haired boy, hoping the trick would work again. He should have known it wouldn't.

"Ahh, so you are Harry Potter, I am Draco Malfoy, and these are Crabbe and Goyle" He thumbed to the idiot boys. "I would like to extend an offer of friendship to you, I can easily tell you which family's are the best." He said this all as he extended a pale hand which Harry suspected was incredibly cold.

"Afraid I would rather not lower myself down to your level, I will be friends with the Longbottom, Bones and Abbot family, those at my station, and I hear they are not fond of you. The lowest I will go will be Greengrass and Davis, for personal reasons. So, Please, leave. i do not want you to scare them off." He said, returning to his book.

Malfoy turned incredibly pink at that moment, and just as He was about to hit Harry, Hedwig burst into flame, making herself known and Draco ran immediately, Harry even noticed he had pissed his pants.

Harry decided to loom out the window just in case, watching the passing scenery. He spotted Gracie flying above, soaring along the train. He waved and she snorted and flew up. Then the Red-haired boy returned.

"Hello, Harry, I have to ask, why did you lie to your best mate, earlier? I mean, I was looking everywhere? Then it turns out you lied to me? It hurts, but I will feel better if you get me some sweets, also, I'm Ron Weasley" Weasley said, all in one breath as he sat down next to Harry, grinning insanely. "Is that a Phoenix? Woah, you just be crazy powerful, only Dumbledore has a Phoenix, so you must be really special."

He babbled on and on, saying how Gryffindor is the best house and Dumbledore is so great.

Harry Finally stopped him. "Ronald Weasley, Please, stop, you are embarrassing yourself. You are not my best mate, Hermione is, along with Daphne Greengrass. Hedwig is my Phoenix, and I do not appreciate you comparing her to Dumbledore's, she is her own bird and she is amazing.

You are being rude. If i get into Gryffindor, it is on my own merits. Now please, leave."

Ron turned bright red, and opened his mouth to yell angrily, but Hedwig Head butted him and Harry closed and locked the door. He had grown tired of these stupid interruptions.

Hermione glanced at him for a second, smiled and went back to her book with a grin on her face. Harry didn't need to use his poor Leglimency skills to see she was happy at being considered one of his best friends. The train ride continued on in silence, until the trolley of candy arrived, and knocked and the door.

Harry opened it, looked and ordered some of everything, smiling at the lady. She smiled back and handed him his sweets. Once he had it all in, he offered some to Hermione and she tried some Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. She immediately spat it out, and went on to try a chocolate frog. They sat there contentedly, munching one them when a quiet knock sounded from the door.

Harry opened it, and there's good a timid young boy who was somewhat large, with dark brown hair and pale skin.

"Ummmm, hello, I'm Neville Longbottom, have either of you seen a toad? I lost mine, Trevor." He asked, his nervousness shining greatly through his demeanor.

"I am afraid not, but I can have my familiar search for him, why don't you sit down and have a few sweets while she searches for him?" Harry asked kindly, wanting to be nice to the boy and meet the Longbottom Heir.

"I, uhhh, thank you. Might I ask you name?" Neville asked, practically shaking in his seat, as he grabbed the beans Hermione had left opened.

"I am Harrison Poterimus, or Harry Potter, and this is my Familiar Hedwig, now Hedwig, if you would?" He asked as she left in a burst of flame to find the toad.

"Harry Potter, really? And was that a Phoenix? That's amazing! She really is beautiful, and a white one at that! Supposedly they only show up every Millenia, so you must be one powerful man!" Neville said, his awe breaking his anxiety as he stared at Harry.

"I do like to think so, yes, but please, I was only a Baby when I defeated Voldemort, and yes, I do believe Hedwig is really something special, but don't tell her that, if you would, I don't think I could handle a Phoenix with an Ego." Harry's humor seemed to work as Neville truly relaxed, and they continued conversing for a while.

Eventually, Hedwig returned with the Toad and Neville thanked her profusely, and she rubbed her head against the boy as she returned to her perch on Harry's shoulder.

The train passed in quiet solitude as Neville brought out a book he had brought, but once again, the fame of the boy-who-lived could not stay silent.

Two twin red headed boys knocked on the door, and Harry opened the door, a twinge of annoyance entering his mind before he banished it.

"Hello, we are Fred and George Weasley, you probably met our brother? We are here to apologize for him, we are afraid he doesn't lack neither the courage nor the brains to do so himself." The responded in perfect unison.

"It's quite alright, I am Harry Potter, and I think it truly shows that you shine where he fails in your honour and loyalty. I am surprised you could have come from the same loins just from this." He responded, surprised at their politeness. He supposed not everybody from that family could be Evil.

"Well, thank you very much, you see, we suspect he has an inferiority complex from so many brothers, we have had two who've already graduated, and he thought being the best mate of the boy who lived could give him better standing.

"We ourselves have worked together and chosen to ignore our brothers success and forge our own path, but it's a bit too hard for him to do so, he desperately wants to be in the limelight, and he read all those stories and saw the daily prophet, so he thought his was his way out.

"To be honest, we are quite glad he was wrong. I fear how it might have ended for you should your popularity ever fall." They continued this all in perfect unison, and Harry was honsestly impressed. While quite clearly jokesters, they also really did seem to have a true sense of Honour, and Harry could not wait for Hogwarts if these two were involved

The five all talked about different things, trading stories and whatnot. The twins tried to get them to fall for the sorting as fighting a forest troll from the Forbidden Forest, But none of them were fooled for a second. Well, Neville was, but he quite quickly realized the absurdity of it.

Harry learned that while somewhat poor, the Weasleys were actually in quite high political standing, having fallen under an Elder status. Unfortunately, their mother, Molly, and Ronald's reputation, had brought them down quite a bit in social graces, one a disgusting hot-headed pig who couldn't close their mouth, the other an overbearing, overprotective mother with a temper to match. Luckily, their father, Arthur, and their brothers has all managed to keep them happy, and their brother Bill's work as a highly valued curse breaker working at Gringotts, and very charismatic personality was working them up to Elder and Noble status, which would rid them of their financial problems and with any hope get them on their way to starting a fortune.

He also learned that their younger sister, Ginevra, had a crush on the Boy-Who-Lived, and Harry did In fact notice they specifically used the title and not his name. He was quite happy they had deduced he hated his fame and it was not who he is, and decided they would be useful as friends in the future.

Things got weird when the Weasley twins brought out an old bit of parchment, and showed them the marauders map. He saw the names, and recognized them from his father's journal. When he explained to them that he was Prong's son and Padfoots's Godson, they bowed down In front of him, and gave him the map. He tried to give it back but they said that in the end, it is a family heirloom, and it should be his.

When he realized this, he gratefully accepted it and thanked them profusely. They continued talking over the train ride, and The twins explained to them what subjects there were and he decided which ones he was excited for quite quickly. Finally, the train pulled into Hogsmead station, and they collected their trunks, stepping off the train. With that, a Brand New Era has begun, whether good or bad, has yet to be seen. The foundation has been laid.

**Review plz!**


	5. Bellerophon's Ascension

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

Finally, the train pulled into Hogsmeade station, and they collected their trunks, stepping off the train. With that, a Brand New Era has begun, whether good or bad, has yet to be seen. The foundation has been laid.

They set the trunks beside the red express as the Weasley twins left them, heading to nearby carriages as they pointed them towards a large man, carrying a lamp.

They moved over as he called all the first years, and once the train was empty and the man was certain they were all there, he lead them down to the docks. There sat a great many rowboats, and he ordered

"No more 'n four to a boat! Four to a boat!" As he took up an entire one himself. Once everybody was on a boat, he pushed off they went sailing.

"O'er 'ere, you folks! A real sight she is!" And it truly was. They all gasped at the magnificent castle, towering over them in the night sky, black against purple, with the occasional light on in it.

As the moved, a giant tentacle reached out, and Harry recognized it as belonging to the giant squid that lives in the great low according to Hogwarts, a History. He waved at as it reached out, and rocked a boat.

Harry, along with the others laughed when they realized it was Ron Weasley, with Malfoy and his buddies. Malfoy and Weasley has been glaring the entire ride at each other, and seemed in no hurry to stop.

Harry looked over his friends as the got ever closer to the docks, smiling at the fact that he finally had friends. He laughed at a joke Neville said, seemingly rationing his lost confidence from seeing the giant man.

The finally reached the Hogwarts docks and got out of them, walking up the muddy ground in the warm autumn air. They finally reached the giant doors, and the giant man knocked three times, all quite deafening.

It opened and there stood a very stern looking woman, allowing the first years and the man in. She looked them over, seemingly trying to find someone.

Once they stepped in, there was a sudden intake of breath as they all stared around at the majesty that was the great hall. It was almost as large as the one at Potter Manor, and was truly magnificent. To the right was a great staircase, and the left a large set of double doors. It was all different textures of a soft brown.

"I shall take it from here, Hagrid, you should go take your seat in the Hall." He said to the giant man, as he walked off he called a farewell. There were a few half-hearted calls back, and Harry felt a bit of sympathy that the man seemed somewhat happier afterwards.

"I, am Professor Mcgonagall, I shall be your transfiguration teacher. You are about to step into the great hall where you will be sorted into one of four houses, Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.

While at Hogwarts, you house will be your family, you will share study rooms, classes, dorms. You will earn points for hyping house for good behavior, and lose points for rule breaking. Each house has a noble history of exceptional wizards, and I expect each of you to be kind to each other while in your house." With that, she opened the doors and lead them inside.

As they walked between two tables, the one on the left containing students with ties of Blue and Bronze, the other having Black and Yellow. To the far right Red and Gold, the far leafy Green and Silver.

They all stood in front of the head table like a concierto, with an old man, presumably Dumbledore, sitting in a throne-like chair in the middle, Hagrid sat at the far right, closest to the Gryffindor and a Greasy-haired, hook nosed man sat to the far left by the Slytherins.

Mcgonagall brought out a stool with an old and patched hat, once it was sat down, it began to sing:

"_Oh you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
if you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folks use any means  
To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

"

It was an interesting hat, some patches seemed to make the eye and a rip in the brim made the mouth. As he thought of this, Mcgonagall started calling names.

"Abbot, Hannah!" A young, pink faced girl with chubby cheeks stepped up and out in the hat.. it barely took a moment for her to be sorted into

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat yelled, and this repeated for Susan Bones. He watched as they were sent to deprecate houses, Hufflepuff being the most welcoming with hugs, Gryffindor having the loudest cheers, Ravenclaw with some cheers and a large collection of loud clapping, and Slytherin had restrained, polite clapping.

Tracey Davis was called and sorted into Slytherin, and once Hermione was called up, was sorted not two seconds later to Ravenclaw, as he suspected. Then, the one he was the most curious stepped up. Daphne Greengrass stepped up casually, and carefully placed the hat on her blonde head.

The hat seemed to start with and S, But with a sudden angry and scrunched up face from Daphne, the hat stopped mid sentence and listened. Everyone was confused, and Malfoy seemed slightly angry. That was, until Harry raised his hand, pointed at his ring and pointed at Daphne.

While not the clearest message, as a Pureblood Malfoy understood immediately, turned pale white and stepped away, quietly whispering apologies.

Just as Mcgonagall was about to remove the hat, it called, quite loudly, Ravenclaw. Daphne stepped off and joined Hermione, who while slightly confused, was also pleasantly surprised and welcomed her.

Neville was called up, and sorted into Gryffindor. Malfoy was next, and the hat, to literally everyone's surprise and Malfoy's anger, called Gryffindor.

Finally, Harry was called and sat on the stool amidst whispering everywhere, some called him handsome, others were in awe, but he was only interested in one person.

Daphne looked upon him with seeming indifference, but he could see the happiness shining in her eyes. He sent the same message as the hat fell over his face.

"Hmmmm, where to put you, where to put you. No, not Gryffindor, you may be Brave, Noble and Chivalrous, But you would murder the bunch of bastards within a day. Hufflepuff is out, you may be loyal and kind, but they are not your strongest suits.

"Slytherin would work, you're definitely cunning and ambitious, but the sheer amount of politicking and high-and-mighty attitudes they have towards what they consider inferior would have you killing them. Yes, Ravenclaw is a good compromise, hope you enjoy it!"

Soon they all begun to eat, Snape, as Harry read on a plaque in front of him, was furious and aggressively eating his spaghetti, slurping with ferocity never before seen when consuming the delectable Pasta.

Once the desserts finished, Dumbledore stood and addressed the crowd.

"Hello, and welcome to a new year, students! To those of old, welcome back! To those new, welcome to Hogwarts! The Forbidden Forest, is, of course, forbidden" he stared at the Weasley twins who were grinning maniacally.

"The list for banned items is outside Mr. Filch's door as he has asked me to remind you, and with that, follow your prefects your your dorms, good night!" He left with a swish of his robes out a nearby door as the students began gathering up to leave.

He followed the students in Bronze and Blue with a perfect badge on them up the stairs to a tower, which held a raven's head knocker. It called a riddle, and as it was simple the prefect answered and the door opened.

"The right is for the girls, the left the boys, no commingling and you should be good. Goodnight!" And with that he left up the left side, the girl the right.

He went into his room and called for an elf, who expanded everything and made the bed much softer. Finally, he lay In bed, tired from the day as he closed his eyes to sleep. No nightmares or dreams tonight.

When he woke up he noticed things about his door he hadn't the night before, like how his trunk was the the foot of his bed and the typical Ravenclaw crest replaced with a Hogwarts one.

He changed from his night clothes into his school robes, all the colors having changed to bronze and blue overnight. He grabbed his book bag with all his stuff, holstered his wand and left the dorm. As he walked down the steps, people stared at the young Lord, still surprised at his house.

He left the common room and went down the steps, idly wondering where Hermione and Daphne were. The boys in his dorm, it seemed, hadn't noticed the expanded room nd the Hogwarts crest above his bed, so he pointedly Ignored then, figuring them for dullards who liked to read. More common than you might think.

As he reached the great hall, more eyes turned to him, and it was a very awkward walk to his end up the table, all either in awe or in Weasley and Malfoy's case, sneering. He sat beside Hermione and began to load his food, idly noticing the Blond haired Blue eyed Bombshell who sat next to him and the light-brown haired boy who sat across from him.

He looked up questioningly at the boy, and saw his eyes were just a swirl of colours. He seemed lightly muscled, but more a reader than an athlete. The girl next to him smiled, and he full realized who she was.

"Daphne?" He asked questioningly, and her smile only seemed to widen.

"Hello, Harry I've been waiting to meet you." She said, grinning broadly.

"You know, from our exchange of letters I would have thought you a Slytherin. I guess anyone can be wrong." He told her, with a wink and a smirk.

"Oh, I suppose, but they do say Slytherins are cunning and subtle, hard to be those in the house known for that. You'd probably be better off hiding in another house." She responded, a smirk clear on her face.

"Hello sir, I am Trip, might I ask who your are?" The Brown-haired boy asked Harry.

"Harrison Poterimus" Harry responded, testing him. If he responded with excitement, no, indifference, maybe, if he knew but did not care, that would be best.

"So, Harry Potter, eh? I've been excited to meet you, but I was a little wary, that's a lot of fame for one boy, and about something no one knows really happened." Trip responded, pushing at his food.

"Hmmm, well done, what wizarding family do you happen to belong to?" Harry asked, it was obvious since he at least partially, knew Potter's family History.

"I belong to house Fawley, ancient pure-bloods, maybe not as much as the Potters, but still old. 'Course, I'm a Half-Blood, so…" he responded, to Harry's approval. It was clear this boy was not raised in the typical Pure-blood family way.

"Tell me, are you the only Heir? And who were you raised by, you clearly don't believe the doctrine or you would likely be in Slytherin." Daphne asked, curious and questioning.

"Oh heck yes I'm the only heir, they are all pissed about it but I'm the only branch left of the main one, the cadets all died out. My grandparents and Great grandparents broke up my parents, but my step-mother turned out barren. Ever heard of the Yaxley elimination? My family was responsible for that, the reason they're extinct." He explained, loving the fact that he could tell them how terrible his own family is.

"What part does your house fall into?" Daphne asked, wondering whether he could be a potential ally in the wizengamot.

"I know what your doing, but don't worry, I'm through with caring about them by now. Well, we went past Minor and Elder, so I know we've reached andcisnt status, not quite Most-Ancient, heck, we'll be the first new family to make it into the sacred-28 since so many have gone extinct, although we were responsible for one.

"We did reach Noble status because of my Great-Great Grandfather, so we are Ancient and Noble. One of the top families too, one of the ones who assisted Dumbledore with Grindelwald and Voldemort." He explained, showing that not only were they pretty light oriented, but a bit Dumbledore loyal.

"I would try for Hufflepuff, but I'm afraid of you, Harry." He grinned, laughing at his little joke.

"Mmm, well, you certainly could be useful, I wonder whether I should do this…" he pretended to ponder, making Daphne smirk and Trip grin. "Alright, I suppose you could be a friend, if you answer me your power scale." Harry grinned, drawing a Disappointed look from Daphne and frown from Trip.

Daphne whispered "that's a very personal question, you can't go about asking that"

"I will say mine if you tell me yours" Trip responded.

"220" Harry explained simply.

"150" Trip responded in kind. "And yours, Daphne? Or are you afraid you would be too weak?"

"I am a good 100, very powerful, but would easily get my ass kicked by you all. Now, you done measuring Dicks, and ready to go to class? Flitwick dropped your schedule on the table ages ago" Daphne responded, getting up, grabbing her bag and leaving.

Trip and Harry grinned at each other and pulled up their schedules.

_**Charms-Slytherin**_

_**Transfiguration-Gryffindor**_

_**Morning Tea**_

_**Double Potions-Hufflepuff**_

_**Lunch**_

_**Double Herbology-Hufflepuff**_

_**Dinner**_

_**Astrology-Mondays & Fridays only-Hufflepuff**_

They got up, grabbed their bags and left for charms. They walked up the Great hall, with stairs and whispers, with the occasional point at them. Harry was surprised to see Trip handling it so well, but he supposed with his family history, he would probably be used to it.

They reached the classroom, sprinting off their arses. Just as they reached it Flitwick allowed the students in, and Harry joined Daphne at a table, Trip and Tracey sharing one.

Tracey was a short, skinny plate girl with brown hair tied in a ponytail with glasses on. Flitwick pauses at Harry's name and saueaked happily, toppling off his books.

As the class begun, he instructed them to try the lumps charm, and explained it was a good starter spell to feel your magic and test magical power.

Daphne managed a bright spell, better than all others in the class, and Flitwick congratulated Her. Theodore Nott, a nearby Slytherin, managed a somewhat bright light, but a far-cry from Daphne's.

Finally, Harry and Trip decided to try it, and with a powerful cry of Lumos! The classroom was bathed in light blinding everyone. People screamed and eyes shut closed. They called Nox, and finally the light left them.

Flitwick stared at them in awe, along with the entire classroom, and called for them to come with him. He lead them to the Headmasters office, after calling for the class to stay and winding through twisted hallways and corridors.

When they reached him, Flitwick called out Slug Bugs and led them inside. They sat in two chairs in front of the desk, where Dumbledore sat.

"Sir, these two have managed the brightest Lumos I have ever seen in my life. I believe they will be hindered with they way the current course is leading. If you would, boys?" He asked, pointing to their wands. Harry noted with interest that Trips wand was Apple and Acacia, with passing legilimency noting the core was Thestral tail hair, truly remarking both the Boys power and history.

They cast Lumos, Harry going first, then Trip. Dumbledore stared in awe, and quickly recovered.

"Well, boys, I do agree with Flitwick, while theory would likely need to be taken at a regular speed, perhaps a bit faster, the practical simply must be continued to maximize your potential. I think cutting the usual seven years to Three and a Half would be best.

"I would also like to teach you a few memories myself, if you would not mind. While not nearly as powerful as you, I do know my fair share." Dumbledore said all this with a twinkle in his eyes, smiling widely. "Now then, off to class, you two. Come in tomorrow for your class."

With that, they left and returned to charms. They quickly packed up and head over to transfiguration.

"So… what magical abilities do you have? I'm a parseltongue, animagus, occlumens, partial legilimens, partially magical resistant, partial seer." Harry asked politely to break the awkward silence.

"I'm an Occlumens, Animagus and a Seer. And a full Seer, you know, aura reader, Future thing, got all of the abilities, sometimes useful, sometimes a pain in the ass." Trip answered quietly as they made their way into Transfiguration.

Mcgonagall gave her opening speech and instructed them to turn matches into needles. Harry made it first try, with Trip a close second, and an irked Hermione third, Daphne made it through sheer will, and Neville made it second-to-last, although Harry noticed his wand looked somewhat old, not like Weasleys, who WAS last, but bad.

Mcgonagall gave some points to Ravenclaw and taught them some theory behind it all. Apparently, when transfiguring you weren't changing what it was, but rather what it was made of. Even the appearance of you were lucky, but at its core it was still a match.

They noticed this when Weasley and Neville's matches all turned back to normal, and slowly everyone's did, although Harry and Trips stayed Needles. Mcgonagall raised an eyebrow but did not question it as she continued her lecture.

She explained that more advanced stuff would come along. Such as Animagus, although it was only available to those who had the ability, since otherwise it would be a complete waste of a class, which she points it can occasionally happen, 'Quietly' whispering Trelawney.

She continued that while charms and transfiguration were very similar and in many ways interconnected, transfiguration focuses more on the changing of the atoms, rather than charms who liked to conjure something out of nothing, although she did explain that it was more of a swap in their case.

Eventually, she said, you would be able to learn how to create matter In charms, and this was how transfiguration would come in handy, but it was an incredibly advanced magic, that few would be able to do, and even for the most powerful it would tire them out, although fro some to light be somewhat easy, and as she said this her eyes flicked it Harry and Trip for a second.

As her lecture continued, Harry decided to focus on his Animagus, which he noticed Trip also decided to work on. He focused on his animal, and a collection of either claws or talons grew out of his fingertips, along with his hands clarifying for a second, but to fast for him to be able to tell what it was.

Just then, a loud bell flew throughout the castle, and Harry gathered his stuff, walking along with Hermione, Trip and Daphne. They made their way to the great hall, and sat down to eat. Just as they'd do, and unpleasant appearance made himself known.

"So, Potter, Fawley, what were you two doing in Dumbledore's office, getting in trouble huh?" Malfoy sneered at them, his cronies by his side.

"Actually, he was telling us how much more powerful than even him we are, each of us over 150 points. So tell us, would you really like to pick a fight with us? Because I guarantee you would never win." Harry responded, sipping his tea as he nonchalantly gripped his wand.

Malfoy paled, and ran away as fast as he could. Trip and Harry laugh at him as he sprinted. You be a bully, you've got to have the power to back it up.

They continued with their conversation, unaware of Snape staring at him with curious eyes. He was certainly not what he expected, he expected an arrogant arsehole, but the boy only hurt others when they actually pissed him off. Yet so far he has been humble despite what he heard about his power level. He himself was a proud 115. He would have to learn more in the next class, he supposed.

While Snape contemplates this Harry and Trip had finished conversing, and begun eating again, when they noticed the disgusted faces on Daphne and Hermione faces. They looked over, and Harry looked green while Trip puked.

There, at the Gryffindor table was the ugliest sight either had ever seen. Ronald Weasley eating. He was just shoving food into his mouth, barely chewing and it was like his mouth had a hinge. Trip got up and ran out, Harry and the others close on his heels.

They made their way down to the dungeons, and stood outside the class, waiting for the next period to begin. Snape billowed past them, staring down at them, and as he looked into Harry's eyes, he was mesmerized by the innocent emerald green eyes. He then whispered a word that would change both lives greatly.

"Lily…"

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	6. Look What We Started

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

Snape billowed past them, staring down at them, and as he looked into Harry's eyes, he was mesmerized by the innocent emerald green eyes. He then whispered a word that would change both lives greatly.

"Lily…"

Snape snapped out of at, stared at Harry warily and flew into the classroom, while Harry and his friends just stared at where he was, stunned. They walked in, and took a seat. Hermione with Daphne, Harry with Trip, and looked up.

The room was made of black bricks, notebooks in front of them, with a large blackboard and a nearby door. Snape walked out of the door, cape billowing, his eyes slightly red and puffy, but he quickly covered it with a wave of his wand.

He proceeded to call roll, pausing at Harry's name but immediately continuing on, so fast Harry thought he might have imagined it. Upon reaching Trip's name, he looked at the boy with curious eyes, flinched slightly and went back to it. Finally he finishes it, and immediately begins talking again.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word—like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without trying. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic.

"I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." Immediately after he finished he asked Harry directly

"Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"The drought of living death, sir." He answered calmly, maintaining eye contact as his shields were pressed. Snape eyes widened in surprise, and he immediately moved onto Trip.

"Fawley! Where would you look if I were to ask for a Bezoar?" Trip answered the question easily and he moved on. He reached a Hufflepuff named Susan Bones, and after she answered he moved onto the lesson.

"I have no room for failure in this class. If your potion is ruined, you clean it up and leave. Now, make the simple boil-curing potion. Instructions are on the board. Begin." With that, he exited the room, his cloak once again, billowing. Harry wondered if he could accomplish this, and before he began his potion, looked into simple charms.

He found the charm, memorised it into his book of Spells. He had 3 Volumes prepared for spells, and 3 more for Potions in his mind all prepared for the future. He began his potion simply enough, and half the class passed without incident. Unfortunately, a young boy decided this was the time for a joke.

A fellow Ravenclaw known as Anthony Goldstein pulled out a swish of Lavender, and threw it into Daphne's cauldron, muttering about dumb snakes. Immediately, Harry shot into action.

He caught the lavender with a levitation spell he had practised, and Trip rounded onto the boy, sending a simple pimple hex, and the boy grew in on his nose, so big it was More pimple than nose. Snape immediately ran up the stairs, glaring st the two boys.

"What do you two dunderheads think your doing! Lavender at this time could blow the entire room to oblivion! I swear-" he failed to finish his sentence as Harry glared at him.

"Sir, if you were paying attention, you would have noticed it was Mr. Goldstein who threw the Lavender at Miss. Daphne's cauldron, I was the one who caught it and Mr. Fawley sent a hex at Goldstein. So if you don't mind, yell at the one who deserves it." He stared hard at the professor who backed off.

He clawed out twenty points from Ravenclaw and left, instead choosing to sit at his desk. The rest of class proceeded as planned, and they turned in their potions. Both Harry and Trip scored Oustandings, with Hermione scoring an Acceptable with Daphne. Hermione seemed somewhat disgruntled, a frown appearing and disappearing, Daphne uncaring.

Harry and Trip both made their way to Dumbledore's office, having received a note from the Headmaster saying he was ready to teach them a new spell. It turned out he was as excited as them. Hermione once again gained a dark look, but nobody noticed.

Once they arrived, the gargoyle moved aside and the went in. They noticed Anthony walking out, dejected. It seemed he had tried to plead about his punishment, but from his memories Harry gathered that he had ended with it being doubled. Dumbledore sat and stared at them, telling them to sit.

"Hello, Mr. Potter and Mr. Fawley, how nice to meet you, please, have a seat." Once they sat, Trip opened his mouth to ask, but Harry best him to the punch.

"If I may ask sir, I know we are supposed to be exceptionally powerful, but I would like to ask others power levels. I know you are a 200, Grindelwald 250 and Voldemort 225, which puts us above them at 250 and 207, but what about the rest of our classmates?" He asked politely with a curious overtone.

"Well, Miss. Greengrass is 100, exceptional, Miss, Granger a 70, Mr. Malfoy is barely 70, Miss. Davis 80, Mr. Weasley 20, Miss. Ollivander is an amazing 130, and the rest all range from 10, like Misters Crabbe and Goyle, and 100, such as Misses Carrow. You are perhaps two of the most powerful ever, and it will only continue to grow, a unique trait of those of the most powerful strength. Even Merlin himself was only 200 at your age.

"Essentially, you could be the most powerful of your age, if ever, once trained properly. Now, I am about to teach you the Patronus charm. Normally only taught at Seventh year, it is incredibly useful against Dementors and requires strength you have in leaps and bounds. The Incantation is Expecto Patronum, and you must focus on your happiest memory." He said all this in almost one breath, surprising Harry, as he began to work.

He searched his library for his happiest memory, until he decided to wing it. He focused on the most precious thing to him, Family, and what it gave him, the Feeling that he could best compare to Love. He cast, and there were gasps from the only other two people in the room.

He opened his eyes and simply stood in awe. There, a bright Stag stood, looking over them all, with a small Romanian longhorn Dragon flying around it, and a Phoenix on one horn. Truly, a one-of-a-kind patronus, especially with three. Dumbledore narrowed his eyes suspiciously when he saw these two creatures, and Trip cast his own.

Out of it burst a powerful Nundu, with a Proud Hungarian Horntail on it's back. It roared, with power filling the room from perhaps the two most powerful patronus Dumbledore had ever seen, and he leaned back in his chair, stunned at this revelation.

Harry opened his heart to these creatures, and tears fell from his eyes as the emotions washed over him. Love, Family, Happiness and acceptance all washed over him, and tears flew from his eyes as he sat in his seat, unable to contain the raw emotions he felt.

He saw his family flash past his eyes, his friends faces flying in front of his closed eyelids. Everything felt so real, and as his heart opened so did his mind and his core, flooding with power. His occlumency forged itself into a permanent bond with his mind.

He saw his Animagus flash in his mind, and he still simply sat in awe of it all. He saw visions of the future pass by, hints of what was to come. Trials and tribulations untold, things that would test his sanity, his will to live and love. Life as he knew it would go into the brink, and it was through sheer love and willpower that he would get through it if he so chose.

He saw his friends and foes, but as soon as they entered they left, half-moon spectacles, bald head, chocolate eyes, a gold gauntlet, giant snake feet, a blue box and more flew over his eyes at the edge of his vision. Time would stand still as he fought, and it all became too much.

He saw his life end and begin, he saw battles untold and couldn't stop. Water crashed and the Earth shook, with it all he closed his eyes as it finally broke him. He fell asleep, as Dumbledore and Trip stared at him, stunned. Neither had seen what Harrison had seen, but merely watched as he shook, gold light flew from his eyes, his hands shaking with power.

Once the gold light dissipated, Harry disappeared from the room, sprinting off. Trip immediately ran after him, and Dumbledore sat stunned. He hadn't planned for this, and his plan was perfect. He had endless contingencies, for every possibility, by this… this was impossible. Not even Merlin himself had seen this.

Dumbledore had every book from him, and never once had this been mentioned. Nothing like it. It was simply… impossible. What did this mean? Was he losing control? No, he would simply work his way around it. He would find a way to put Harry back in his control.

He needed that money, for himself and the Order. The title, oh that title, that would bring him fame untold. All he needed was the boy, he would marry Ginevra, have an Heir then die. All would be his. The Heir would be molded, hand him the money and Title, and he would be the new King of wizarding Britain.

He needed to do research, find out what it was, maybe he could turn this to his advantage. For now, he needed to continue to seem as if a friend.

Albus shook his head. his control was failing, he must protect the boy. He can't be released. Please.

Harry woke up in a cold sweat, in a bed that was not his. He peered at his surroundings, a curtain tightly pulled to cut him off from the outside. He barely remembered what happened the night before, except one, distinct face. Daphne. What did it mean? Was she Friend or Foe? It would have to wait.

Madam Pomfrey opened the curtain, and gasped out. He wondered what could have frightened her, when she held out a mirror. He looked at it, and gasped.

His emerald green eyes flowed with a bright golden light, his jet black hair that was always unusually messy seemed somehow messier, and yet none of that was what caused him to gasp. He was used to unusual things, but this was completely different. His scar was gone. Not a shred of it.

He got up, finding perfect balance despite himself, and left the wing. Once he walked into the great hall, which was nearby the hospital wing, everyone stared. He located a nearby newspaper, and noted it was a month since he had been awake. He sat with Trip and Daphne, Hermione nearby, all were casually eating their meals.

Harry did note that Trip was glancing at another Ravenclaw First year, who had caramel hair, pale skin and the deepest of blue eyes. He remembered her name as Elizabeth, and put it away for later, marking it in his book for Trip.

Once he began eating, everyone else followed, But four students got up and walked over. It was Draco Malfoy, his goons and Ronald Weasley.

"So Potter, what's up with the eyes? You blind now?" Malfoy taunted, high fiving his goons along with Ronald.

"Yeah, Harry, you need a cane or something? Oh wait- you have Friends! You gonna get your girlfriend, Fawley and Granger to walk you around? Maybe carry you like a baby?" Ronald teased, holding his hand to his mouth like a sucker.

"No, Ronald, I will simply kill you because I sure as hell don't need sight to do that, your smell is so disgusting it permeates the air around it with its odor, poisoning young children's noses and suffocating adults. As for you Draco, your Hair is so slick with hair gel I wouldn't be surprised if you could make an entire company out the sheer amount you use in one morning"

They stood their, stunned at his rebuttal and simply walked away, defeated. Elizabeth raised an eyebrow but continued to eat.

"So, Harry, I hear you dislike pure bloods, does that mean you dislike myself and Daphne?" The Ollivander Heir asked, her caramel hair pulled into a bun on her head. Trip stared at her, unable to look away, some drool coming out of his mouth. Gods, hes Eleven! stupid Hormonal magic.

"Naaah, only the really nasty ones. You seem alright, but if you insult any Muggleborn or Half-blood in my presence prepare for an arse-kicking." He responded calmly, elbowing Trip to get his attention. Trip glared back and started eating his food, taking the occasional glance at Elizabeth.

"So, Elizabeth, anything else I can call you, seems a bit much to say over and over again." Daphne asked, looking at her.

"I suppose Liz or Beth works, although I have been called Olli, yet I find myself disliking it." Elizabeth responded.

"Liz it is then. Tell me, I had no idea Ollivander had a Heir. Who are your parents?" Harry asked, curious in the possibilities.

"Well, Garrick Ollivander running the shop is my Great- Granddad, been running the shop for ages. I will actually be the next one to take over, once my Hogwarts career is complete. My father and Granddad both decided business, but wand-making seems to suit me." Liz responded.

After that they began eating. It was incredibly lucky Harry had read to **THIRD YEAR **or he would be in big trouble in his studies. It turned out Trip had been doing his assignments for him, luckily he had mastered his handwriting or Harry would have been buried in paperwork.

Once their meal was over, it was time for bed. Harry and his group, with Liz tagging along, they moved into the Ravenclaw dorms after solving the laughably easy riddle. They shared some easy words, sharing jokes and reading. The Ravenclaw library was incredibly useful, containing some books they could not find anywhere else.

They studied, Harry helping the rest with their studies, which he found slightly ironic, and he himself reading into fourth year. He did notice that Liz seemed to enjoy Trip's presence, and even asked help from him when Harry clearly figured out she did not need it.

He shrugged it off and continued reading, studying the interesting thing known as the bubble head charm, which was supposed to be taught at sixth year, although the theory work was done in fourth. He finished reading about a plant known as gillyweed, when he decided to get to bed. It was eleven, and the rest had already left.

As he lay in bed, he started up a mental conversation with Gracie, and he felt a large wave of relief washed over him from her end as they talked. After he explained what happened, they talked about mundane words, and soon it was time for him to sleep. Hedwig curled up on him as he finally fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

When he awoke the next morning, Hedwig was fine and Gracie was napping, he checked the time with a handy spell he had learned, and found it was 7 in the morning. He got up and showered, dressed and brushed his teeth, heading to breakfast.

He walked in, some heads turning but most now ignoring him. As he sat by his friends, Trip and Liz were both sitting side by side. He ignored it for the most part, and simply sat in his spot, quietly eating.

Once he finished, he grabbed his bag, having already received his October schedule and moved onto class. Today, it was double Transfiguration, and Mcgonagall was supposed to give a big lecture.

He moved up the steps, his friends trailing behind him, talking. He moved back, missing their company, he had already gone years without friends, he wasn't ignoring them now.

Once they reached the classroom, they were quite a bit early, so they decided to take out books. Daphne pulled out one on Charms, Hermione Transfiguration, Trip Alchemy which had picked up on from Dumbledore, and Liz has one on Potions.

As it turned out, in Defense, the subject he was reading about, many things were actually quite interesting. There were dozens of different creatures, all fascinating. Many different types of Trolls, who likely were the ones confused for Bigfoot, and even Yeti, who were the cold versions of the typical Trolls.

Forest Trolls were the typical species near Hogwarts, hidden in the Forbidden Forest, and there were some nearby mountains, although Mountain Trolls were already rare, nearly extinct, since they constantly wandered in on humans resulting in their deaths, so it was possible any colony that once lived there were dead.

Nundu as it turned out, were believed to also be nearly extinct, a predicted only 10 left, with 6 in captivity being bred. As monstrous as wizards are, they try their best to keep their creatures alive, but with the constant expansion of muggles it was getting harder and harder.

The Romanian Longhorn was believed extinct, although Gracie proved that wrong, and hopefully that meant there would be more. Out of roughly thirty original living species of dragons, only 9 were left, and that was counting the Romanian Longhorn, IF there were more than Gracie AND they were able to breed.

There were only three herds of Unicorns left, Britain being the only large piece of land with them, one at Hogwarts, one at Potter Manor, although no one knew about that herd, and one in a small farm.

Hell, Hippogriffs and Griffins were on their last legs, Griffins already supposedly extinct, with roughly 5 at Potter Manor as the last of them, luckily they were breeding. Hogwarts had the last Hippogriffs, although their population was steadily increasing at a rough 100.

Occamy, Phoenix, Thunderbird and Winged Horses all lived on an island in the middle of the pacific, the last known locations since They had gone extinct in their own normal environments. It was actually Newt Scamander who had discovered the island, which was actually as large as Australia, worked with other Magizoologists and hid it.

It allowed them to breed in peace so that one day they may return to their natural environments. The last known populations for each breed on the island were at 200 each, and with any hope they would have increased since.

The Erumpents and Demiguise were both endangered, but wizards had already taken steps, and their populations had gone up to 1,000 Erumpents, and 1,200 Demiguise. Finally, the Graphorns had been saved by Mr. Scamander, their population at 150, and steadily increasing with the rest.

With that, the class started, and they entered, the classroom, Him sitting with Daphne, Trip with Liz and Hermione with a Mr. Boot. Then Mcgonagall entered the class, and began her lecture.

"Today we study the theory behind transforming oneself into an animal, more commonly known as an Animagus. Now while there are other ways, this so the most commonly known one and also the hardest to accomplish. The task comes easier as a magical ability, yet is still quite difficult. If you are not a natural, you would find it near-impossible.

"It actually comes from the Theory of Evolution, something proposed by an old Magizoologist known as Charles Darwin. This is someone you may find yourself more focused on in third year, when you take that class, if you take that class.

"Charles Darwin proposed the thought that it was possible all creatures derived from similar ancestors, who did the same. Such as muggles, wizards, primates and Demiguise. All incredibly similar creatures, yet superficially and intellectually different. Demiguise have the ability to harness magic to make themselves invisible, along with wizards, but muggles and your typical ape do not. As a result, we likely all evolved from a similar ancestor.

"And even though it is unknown whether or not they were magical as we have yet to figure out whether or not they were such, we have named them as some form of hominid, known as Homo Erectus. Since it is currently impossible to label them as either magical or muggle, we cannot tell whether or not what branch carried the dominant trait.

"Although it is commonly believed to be muggles, since they tend to be able to breed quickly and more efficiently than magical, and recent studies into squibs and muggles seem to prove this wrong, since muggleborns are becoming more and more common, and squibs less and less.

"The main reason wizards were dying out was commonly believed to be inbreeding, and denying muggleborns the ability to join us. This has since changed, and the wizarding population in Britain has since had an influx, as such this tends to lead us to the belief that magic was actually the dominant trait, and it was through our own fault that we were dying out.

"Now, because of our process of Evolution, we are essentially connected to every living thing in existence on Terra, as such we maintain that connection through Animagus transformations, allowing us to keep that blood in us.

"It is believed that with an Animagus, that line starts keeping a direct connection with that animal through magical means, and it is another way to prove that magic is the dominant trait in species. The only animal known to not have magic is Muggles, and as such it is the main reason why they are so abhorred by our society. They are, essentially, unnatural. The monsters under the bed, if you would.

"They break the very laws of our world and the next, by lacking magic, they are allowed free reign in our world to do as they please with no guilt. They kill creatures, driving them to extinction every day and murder trees. Trees are by far the oldest and wisest of all living creatures, who gave up moving bodies and voices so as to have the best connection with the Earth. Not once, has any of them regretted it, and as such many more have joined it.

"Bushes, grass, all different creatures who chose the follow the trees example, and as such became who they are. They give their lives to continue us, and the muggles reward their sacrifice with unneeded murder and death. Many wizards believe they can be avenged through mass murder, and others believe they can be saved through appealing to the muggles.

"Others yet choose to let the humans kill themselves, as they are quite well known for that. I choose to believe that Muggles are who they are, and we cannot change that. They cannot continue if it goes as it is, but as more and more wizards and witches are born the muggle population decrease. It is estimated that in only two or three generations, all children will be muggleborn, but going by current charts, that estimation belonged two generations ago.

"Chances are, the next generation will be entirely muggleborn, and the Homo Sapiens species will fall under extinction, replaced completely with Homo Magi, or Magician Man. With the rate of breeding for us, we will be naturally checked, since coupling results in only one or two children at the most. By all means, though we are simply the muggles cousins, we are, In complete truth, better than muggles. But, in no way, are we superior than each other.

"Miss. Granger herself is a muggleborn and more powerful than many of the purebloods in this room. So do not mistake muggle ancestry as weakness, sometimes it is a tool, as much incest within the purebloods results in weaker offspring, which lines as the Potters prove that blood matters not, they combine the best of both worlds, keeping themselves from too much inbreeding while keeping the magical abilities, their respective genes, alive.

"So, to keep the connections between creatures alive, magic pairs different lines with different creatures, but since it can only pair us with those that are magic, we cannot turn into another human, even Metamorphmagus fall under this rule since they are only changing physical characteristics via magic superficially.

"For example, I myself am a cat, as was my mother and her mother before her, all were some form of feline, lion, panther, et cetera. This is one of the few ways purebloods do prove themselves a small bit better than muggleborns, as only they have access to these traits.

"It is unknown how, exactly, we birthed these traits, only that at one point, a Wizard, commonly believed to be Merlin, took the young children of the pureblood families and gave each a unique trait. The Slytherins, Parseltongue, Ravenclaw got seers, Hufflepuff Badgerspeak, Gryffindors wings.

It continued on and on, but to keep magic flowing, he gave each line an animal that gets fitted their personalities and gifts them the ability to transform into that particular creature. This is all merely theory, and has no proof. Yet somehow, some way, these traits were born into our blood.

"And before any of those muggle born can ask or demand, there is no way to share these traits except breeding, and they are only given to the offspring. They are yet still hereditary, so muggle born cannot and will never receive these traits. It is literally impossible. Maybe, MAYBE, if another Wizard like the one in the story were to come about and repeat the spell, but it unlikely since it would still be hooked to bloodlines. So don't ask, it has been researched many times over by the greatest minds, and the secret is yet to be found.

"Now, before we end class today, I would like to speak about some last things. If you are an Animagus, please come to me and I can give you lessons, and teach you. Also, next week I will give you a lecture about some of these things in a bit more detail, such as how muggles can produce magical offspring if they are two different species, so do read into that, goodbye class."

With that, the bell rang, and Harry packed up his notes, slightly dazed from the lecture. Who knew this stuff could be so interesting. It really was fascinating, and he saw Trip, and the rest of their group also with awe. Some of their classmates had fallen asleep, but they were mostly ignored by the group as a general rule.

They moved onto charms with Professor Flitwick with the Gryffindors, and were surprised when he came up to them. He spoke simply and clearly, and all it could do was stun them, as they were unprepared for those words calamity for the rest of their lives.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Fawley, I have some news. Mr. Potter's contract has been discovered, and Mr. Fawley has been found to also have one, identical to Mr. Potter's save the names, and have both been found to be completely real. You shall be moved to your new Betrothed quarters starting tomorrow. Be prepared." With that, he sent a wave and moved into his class, leaving two stunned students.

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	7. The Attractions of Youth

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

He spoke simply and clearly, and all it could do was stun them, as they were unprepared for those words calamity for the rest of their lives.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Fawley, I have some news. Mr. Potter's contract has been discovered, and Mr. Fawley has been found to also have one, identical to Mr. Potter's save the names, and have both been found to be completely real. You shall be moved to your new Betrothed quarters starting tomorrow. Be prepared." With that, he sent a wave and moved into his class, leaving two stunned students.

Harry and Trip walked into the classroom, stunned and with no idea what to do. Harry decided he would sit by Trip today instead of Daphne, as he usually did. This caused Daphne to frown, and ask why, even though she already suspected the reason.

"Well it turns out, as betrothed, we must share a quarters. I don't know how they found out, they just did. It also turns out that Trip is betrothed and will have to do the same thing." He said, shaking slightly in fear and anxiety.

She nodded with an unreadable expression on her face, as she turned away and payed attention to Flitwick's lecture.

"Today, Class, we go over the theory of magic and wands. I have had many a first year come up to me and question why we use wands, and I always give the same answer. It's easier" He said, his squeaky voice easily heard in the surprisingly silent classroom.

"Wandless magic is not unheard of, in fact, among the more powerful it can be used quite often. The cost, is that it takes a dozen times more energy and focus. The weaker among you magically, may never be able to do it. It is a spectacle, however, and it can accomplish great things. Merlin himself is said to have used wandless magic when not with his staff, and with it he supposedly created animagus, parseltongue, and the rest.

"It is incredibly powerful when harnessed correctly, but nobody has managed such a thing both before and after Merlin. In our greatest book, The History of Magic by Lord Castellan, it speaks of a child who will one day be able to recreate the effects of Merlin, and harness wandless magic. Of course, it is simply a legend, like the greek Gods, Chamber of Secrets and Deathly Hallows.

"Now, tonight I want an essay on all of this information, it can be found in the book I spoke of, as well as most charms textbooks. For now, I want you all to practice the Levitation charm." He said, as he got off his podium of books, and moved over to his main desk, which had a much smaller seat and shorter desk.

Harry accomplished the spell with a quick swish of his wand, nobody, not even he, noticing he lacked words. He moved on, helping others. Ronald turned out to need much help, as he couldn't even pronounce the words, and Malfoy was way off. His words and his movement were off, making Harry fear for a bison to appear.

Soon enough, class was over, and they moved on to the others. Each class was the same as the first, starting a lecture and moving onto work. They did not have Potions today, but they could tell what would be happening tomorrow by the expressions on their fellow students faces as they glanced at them.

Once it was all over, they moved up the stairs to an entire abandoned corridor, with rooms lining across it. The corridor was on the fifth floor, and was in terrible need of dusting. They noticed blank gold plaques on the door, and looked carefully at each one. Trip and Liz found theirs first, and they moved in, glancing warily at each other. Harry and Daphne found their own, and walked in slowly.

The door was locked with dozens of charms that would take years for even Grindelwald himself years to deal with. Harry quickly moved over to the couch, and unpacked his things, setting on blankets. He could hear Daphne's quiet sigh of relief, as she moved onto the bedroom with his trunk.

The night was quiet, with Harry reading alte into the night. As morning came, He got up, stretched, and moved onto the bathroom. There, he began his morning routine of shower, teeth, attempting to tame his hair, once again. He heard a knock, and opened it to Daphne, with her hair down in a silver nightie. He moved out, let her in, closed the door behind him and turned to his trunk. Opening it, he pulled out a nice, green shirt with silver highlights, his school pants and robe, and pulled it all on. He decided to forgo the tie, like usual, and closed his trunk.

By then, he heard Daphne in the bathroom taking a shower, and decided to exit the room. As he stepped out, he stared in awe at the changed corridor. Instead of the dusty, dank place it had been last night, it was bright and cheery, with freshly waxed floor and scrubbed walls. He moved onto class, and the process repeated itself.

Over the course of the month, everything was beginning to mold together, and overall, it all seemed completely normal, with the exception of one Quirinus Quirrell. He was an enigma to Harry, he seemed both frightened of his own shadow, and one who was hiding an incredibly big secret, especially since Harry caught him at odd moments heading to the third floor corridor, and talking to himself.

Harry tried to peer into his mind, but he felt such anger emanating from him, such pure, unadulterated rage, that he fell over in his seat. That it was all happening while he was in Quirrell's class where he was speaking in the most timid voice possible, really stunned him.

Finally Halloween arrived, and Harry was incredibly wary. He may have accepted his parents death after reviewing his memories of the night, but it didn't help the fact that it was his parents that died that night, all for him. It grew even worse when Quirrell stumbled into the hall, muttering something about a plan. He shouted about a troll, and promptly passed out.

Chaos raged the hall, until Dumbledore lifted his hand and raised his wand. When he did, Harry saw something he never would have predicted his entire life. The Elder Wand, was held by Dumbledore in his right hand as a large cannon blast blew from it. If that was true, and Harry's suspicions about the cloak were right, The Hallows were real, and he had located two of them. What else did that say about what was real, were Hecate and Circe real? He would have to look into this more.

The hall fell into silence with the blast, and as Dumbledore yelled for them to return to their common rooms, Harry stayed behind, hiding under the desk. Although he got weird looks from his friends, they moved on, associating it with his normal weirdness. When the hall had emptied, Quirinus looked up, scouting the room. Noticing no one, he got up, pulling on the cloak he had received so obviously from Dumbledore, who had luckily been made to give an unbreakable vow to return it, or, as it was a hallow, might never have been returned.

Quirrel exited the hall, and Harry slipped out right behind him, and they walked up to the corridor on the third floor. Suddenly, a cold voice entered the room, emanating from the turban on his professor, that made Harry stop dead.

"Be careful Quirinus, I would rather not have a repeat of last time, poor Severus, my loyal follower. How much he has suffered due to your blunders. I am warning you, you only have so long before trouble comes."

Harry followed Quirrel automatically and warily, as he turned the corner, nearing a locked door at the end of the hall. With a quick Alohomora, Quirrel entered. Harry looked carefully behind him, and stepped inside. He saw a giant Cerberus, but ignored it, he had already read about the giant dogs. Scary though they may be, they were only dangerous when aggravated. Yet that gave Harry an idea… a terrible one that he may regret for years to come, but it would stop a madman from rising…

Quirrel summoned a harp, but Harry destroyed it with a quick bombarda, and the dog opened a pair of eyes. Harry quickly left the room, ignoring the screams centering around a locked door at the end of the hall…

It was now December, and Harry was still shaken over the death of Quirrel. Though he hid it well, it frightened him to look in the mirror, as he only saw a killer. His friends tried to get him to talk, Neville standing up bravely next to Hermione, who had grown a tiny bit distant from Harry, who did not notice. Daphne even cornered him in their quarters, but Harry wormed his way out of that one with a quick sleeping charm. He set her in the bed, and went to sleep on the couch.

Though, it only lasted a month before Harry got over it, as he realised it wasn't his fault, in fact, he had saved the entire Wizarding World from a threat worse than death. With this on a constant repeat on his mind, he learned to live with it, but pledged that if he were to kill anyone in the future, they would have to be truly vile, so he could live with himself.

Harry had spent many a night resting on Gracie's back though, when the occasional nightmare appeared, Hedwig cuddling him. He found soon enough, that flying on a dragon was second to none, even a broom was incomparable, though amazing. Even Phoenix travel stunned him with how amazing it was as he flew about, laughing to himself. He also learned via Gracie that his founders titles and Peverell name was unlockable, but it required certain tasks to be completed.

He continued to learn from Dumbledore, and had already accomplished the practical of Seventh year, and Trip was quickly making his way through sixth. Harry had already read through the sixth year, and once he finished with seventh, he would be completely set for his N.E.W.T.S. and would easily breeze through school with his occlumency skills. Nowadays, Dumbledore was tutoring him in Alchemy, the last class for him to master, and legilimency, when he learned Harry had the skill one day,

**November 13th- Dumbledore's Office- Harry's POV**

Harry had been called into Dumbledore's office alone, for his now daily Alchemy lesson. Dumbledore showed him how to brew a potion of replenishment, even more powerful than the normal one taught to budding potioneers, this one was far advanced than anything most people could even consider, since it's alchemic composition broke the laws of normal potions.

He stirred the drought as Dumbledore sat carefully in his seat, watching over the brewing while instructing him on what would be best for what. While Harry may be wary of the man, who wouldn't with the sheer amount of secrets he held, he did admire his intelligence. If it wasn't that he already knew the truth, he would have suspected the man a descendent of Ravenclaw.

Harry decided to probe his mind carefully once the replenishing drought was finished, but hit a wall stronger than most had ever seen. The only one Harry had ever met that rivaled Dumbledore's defences was his own, and even he was barely a step down from Harry's. Of course, Harry wasn't stupid; he knew that this chance would never come again. While Dumbledore held his head in surprise and pain, he disarmed him with a the quick spell he had learned immediately, and felt the Elder Wand accept it's new master.

Harry reluctantly put it back in Dumbledore's hand, and asked him what was wrong. Dumbledore just stared at Harry, still amazed at his ability. Dumbledore then quickly ordered him to keep it a secret, but Harry asked him for the Legilimency lessons he had so craved. Dumbledore agreed, awed by the boy's power, and dismissed him, the meeting arranged for tonight, as with the usual lessons.

**Present- Harry's POV**

With December had arrived winter exams, and Harry finished them all with Outstandings + in all of them, and he quickly realised academics would never be a problem for him. He decided to move onto skill she lacked, such as learning parseltongue without looking at a snake, and finishing his animagus. He had learned he was some type of eagle, with golden wings and claws. He had also learned to keep the senses on him at all times, which he had mastered first, finding them superior to his own humans.

They had all managed to morph together, and his eagle senses were now his own, permanent. He had learned quite quickly that the more powerful animagus tended to keep some aspects of their animals, such as Mcgonagall's preference for solitude, retractable claws, and aloof air. It had been quite a shock when he woke up one day and discovered golden wings on his back.

He had kept them hidden from Daphne, and under his clothes he lay them against his back, carefully. They had a gigantic wingspan of ten feet each, and he now practiced flying everyday. He was nowhere near Gracie's power, but it was still amazing to fly by himself. He learned to ignore them, despite feeling the powerful muscles in his back aching to fly, and made sure they were kept a secret. He attempted to cut them off, as they were too much of a risk, but utterly failed, as he simply couldn't.

That was a hard week. He moved on, and just flew on Gracie now, as to prevent unwanted attention, not that the Dragon helped much. The entire school was prepared to kill her, until Harry stood his ground in front of them, with his Phoenix on his shoulder, Gracie standing on her legs, behind him her wings spread out and she snorted fire. The image was powerful, and had even Dumbledore shaking in his boots. Trip was the first to walk next to him, facing the crowd, with Dumbledore realising how powerful these two were as a pair.

Daphne and Liz stood next to him next, Hermione and Neville joining them. With Neville at 100, he may be beaten by the rest but he could kick ass in the crowd of students. With that, everyone gave them a wide berth, truly scared of their potential power. Even Dumbledore rethought his plan, but decided to stick with out no matter how frightening they were.

When the Christmas holls arrived, almost the entirety of the school left. Harry had received invitations from all his friends, even Trip and Daphne, but he declined them all. He wanted to spread his wings and fly, no pun intended. He spent the entirety of the two weeks in his quarters, without a shirt as his golden wings went wide, touching each end of the room.

He learned as much as he could, and soon, he thought he might rival even Dumbledore in pure knowledge, though not wisdom. Once he received his presents, he set them under a tree he had conjured, and his eyes widened at Christmas day when he realized the sheer amount that he had been gifted. He had at least a dozen presents, each from his friends and their families.

As he looked through them, he recognized all names but one, a Ms. Lovegood. He opened a card, and was surprised by the contents. He quickly picked up on the fact that she was a seer. A truly rare one at that, she might even rival Trip in her abilities, who had completely developed the ability, although with occlumency he rarely got prophecies, and even fewer that he remembered.

She had woven him some wool socks, and Harry put them on, finding them extremely comfortable. He knew that with her abilities as an Aura Seer, something Trip lacked as a Prophetic Seer, she would likely be treated as an outcast, and Harry made the decision right then and there to become her friend as soon as she came to Hogwarts next year.

As Harry opened the rest of his presents, many of them sweets and books, his mind wandered over to the Hallows, and it came to him with a startling realization that he now had two of the legendary items. Once he got the Resurrection stone, he could claim the Elder Wand as his own officially, and become the Master of Death.

Harry pondered this, considering what abilities he might gain as such a being, as he opened the last of his presents. He hesitated on the last one, however, as he recognized a magical signature suggesting there was a portkey in it. He carefully pulled out his wand and cast a carefully controlled cutting curse on it, which revealed an old, worn boot. He tracked it to a Malfoy Manor, thanks to his experience with the press, and quickly destroyed it with a fire curse.

He moved on, deciding to try some of his sweets, when he noticed a strange package in the corner that he hadn't seen before. He scanned it, but found nothing. The card on it revealed nothing as well, and once he opened it, he gasped. A golden ring lay in a velvet case, but Harry sensed faint traces of dark magic emanating from it. Whatever had been on it, was gone, but he took no chances. He picked up a nearby card, and read it.

_To Whom it may concern,_

_I would like to keep my identity a secret, if you would not mind, but I will ask that you do consider this ring. It once belonged to a Morfin Gaunt, before it moved onto a Tom Marvolo Riddle the Second, also known as Lord Voldemort. He has decided to create Horcruxes at this time, and I fear what it may mean for the world. As proof, I give this to you, seeker, to give example of what he chooses for them, and what may be used to destroy it. Basilisk fang works best._

_Now, I do wish to tell you this, as these may very well be my final words, I have found two, this ring, and a locket I have hidden with my house elf. There was once a stone inside the ring, but it's power is too dangerous. I cannot let any old fool wield it, and as such, when the time is right, and you are ready, if you ever are, the stone will come to you. When it does, you will know what it is…_

_Best Regards,_

_R.A.B._

Harry realised they were speaking of Horcruxes, and quickly grabbed the ring. He memorised the feel of the magic, and set it down. That is, until he saw a green snake on it. He put it on, and felt power grow inside him, as he became the Lord of house Slytherin. He decided to test it, and realised he could speak parseltongue now without a snake.

He looked at the letter carefully again, and took in the part about the Basilisk. It would be difficult, but he would see what he could do about getting a fang. He set the letter down, and took in that he had completed a task. Only 3 left, and he could fully claim his birthright.

He finally looked at his wings, and noticed a slight change. The golden pieces ran down his back, where there were two muscles that connected to his back. They made him look much like an angel, and to be honest, kinda creeped him out.

As he looked at each feather, soft as silk, he carefully plucked one out, it was an emerald green. They were scattered among the gold, distinct as can be. It contrasted beautifully, and if what he suspected was right, his wings might become the most beautiful pieces in the world, at least, so he hoped.

He folded them back up against his back, and decided to at least get out for the Christmas feast. He put on a nice silk shirt that was the ravenclaw sapphire blue with bronze highlights, and walked down the steps. Nobody else in ravenclaw had stayed, and as far as he knew only Weasley stayed of all the Gryffindors. Both Nott and Parkinson of the Slytherins stayed, and 6 Hufflepuffs remained.

He sat at the table, to a smile from Dumbledore, a stare from Mcgonagall, smirk on Snape, to which he smirked back, a Gigantic grin from Hagrid, who he decided to get up and hug. He and Hagrid had grown close over the course of the year, he even came by for tea every other day when he could fit it into his schedule. Hagrid regaled him with tales of his parents, and of amazing creatures he had met.

Harry wouldn't lie, some of the creatures frightened him, but he still smiled with Hagrid, and offered encouragement, as Hagrid hoped to be the Care of Magical Creatures by his Third year, as he hoped Harry would join his class, that Harry had already promised himself he would, and Professor Thompson, the current teacher, had talked about the next year being his last. Although, he did say that he was considering sharing the class with Ms. Grubbly-Plank, a friend of his.

Harry now considered Hagrid one of his best friends, and vowed to protect the large man with his life. He would bring him from his Hero Worship of Dumbledore, and he had already been doing well. As loyal as Hagrid was, he was very similar to Harry. Loyal to a fault, and would lay down his life, but that loyalty and trust would break easily with the wrong events, and would be near impossible to bring back.

He hugged the man, who laughed, hugging him back. The large moleskin jacket with too many pockets was draped over his chair, and he had on a burgundy woollen shirt with leather pants. His warm, dark eyes crinkled in happiness, and he pat the seat next to him.

"Ah, Harry, 'ow's it goin'? I 'eard from the others you ain't leavin' your room 'cept to see me for tea? Is somethin' wrong?" He asked, concern in his voice as it bellowed through the halls.

"It's nothing Hagrid, there's just nothing to do, all my friends except you are out on holiday, so the only one I can really talk to here is you. Sure, the teachers are here, but they don't exactly make wonderful conversation do they? All about grades, they are." Harry responded, a grin on his face as he looked up at the large man. Hagrid laughed loudly at his joke, and once he calmed down he responded.

"'Spose so, well, dig in! They've got wizard crackers 'ere! Wonderful things, even got a wizards hat out o' one o' 'em!" Hagrid pointed to said hat, which was situated on his head, buried under a mass of black hair. Harry laughed, and picked a couple out himself. In doing so, he missed the glances from everyone at the teacher as they watched the dynamic between the two men. They could not be more different, one an outgoing, large man with kindness to spread everywhere, and one a semi-cold person who talked informally to only his friends, sharing few words with anybody else.

Hagrid watched with a grin as Harry cracked a cracker and got a brand new wizards chess set, which he played with the giant man, and lost spectacularly to. It surprised many, as they thought Harry would absolutely destroy the man, but then they realised he must have been taking pity. Harry of course, knew that Hagrid was actually quite smart, contrary to the demeanor he tended to flaunt, but due to low self-confidence, he hid it.

Harry encouraged him to show it off, but he merely shook him off, too afraid. Harry was intent on it however, and desperately wanted the man to take his O.W.L.'s and N.E.W.T.'s. One day, he promised himself as he went back to his meal. Dumbledore started at the two with curiosity. He was no idiot, he had noticed that Hagrid had begun to distance himself from him, and he wondered why. As far as he knew, no one suspected his curse's plan, not even Mcgonagall and Snape.

Harry's eyes glowed gold, as he stared at Hagrid. His mouth fell open as his wings expanded from his back, ripping open his shirt and robe. His eyes flashed with death and destruction, faces flitting over his eyes as he watched them die. Red Hair, Greasy hair, dark eyes, a man falling. 30 wizards about to kill another, Chocolate eyes losing light, red eyes fading from color, and a black gate with a silvery veil. He cried out in horror as he watched each die, whether it be green light, cut down from a sword or disappearing into dust.

Gods and Heroes watching, destruction tearing down building by building, cutting down person by person as blonde, curly hair flitted over his eyelids. People watched as he writhed in pain. Hagrid jumped, calling his name as he picked the boy up. He carried him out of the hall, out of the castle, onto the ground. He brought him to his wooden hut, with Fang barking at the door.

He slammed open the door and placed him carefully on the blankets, and his wings stretched the entirety of the hut. Finally, the glow died and Harry stopped screaming and fell into a deep sleep. Hagrid boiled some water for tea, and carefully pulled a blanket up onto Harry.

—

When Harry awoke, it was to the sweat smell of tea he had tasted and loved so much. He sat up, groaning as the pain in his head receded. He folded back his wings, as he carefully took a cup from Hagrid. While he did not remember much from his visions, one thing stood out to him, that people would die. People close to him, and he suspected some. He looked up to his friend, and grinned at the man, who grinned back, although worry was in his eyes. Harry vowed once again to get Hagrid a proper wand, so that he could defend himself. The world would not lose this great man for a long time.

When the christmas holidays were over, the students came back. With them, the staring and whispering as they all quickly learned of his newest attributes and apparent ability as a seer. Luckily, Harry had already registered under the ICW, or he might have been in trouble. Apparently they were able to deduce him as a seer, since all seers shared that same light in common, though the clarity and color of it depended on who it was. Trelawney was green and a thick fog, which said she was barely a seer, yet also an incredibly accurate and powerful one.

Soon enough, the end of the year was nearing as it turned into late april, with nothing truly exciting happening. It was simply the dragging classes, with the exception of the lectures, and the usual pitiful taunts from Ronald and Draco. However, the year couldn't end with peace, as another huge event happened. As Harry was walking to his quarters with Daphne, Snape walked up to him.

"Hello, Potter, I wish to tell you one thing and give you something of Importance. Do not trust Dumbledore, with any semblance of your being, he has plans that are not in your best interest. Please, I cannot see you die like your mother." As he said this, He handed Harry a blood-red stone, and walked off. Harry's eyes bulged as he recognized what it was.

"The Philosopher's Stone.."

**Righty then, there's another chapter! I really feel Hagrid is underused in pretty much every fanfiction ever, as well as the books! And I just love him, so I wanna really make him a prevalent character, someone who Harry really comes to care for, and it's already begun! I dare you to guess who I was referring to die.**

**Anyways, please, Review!**


	8. The Party's Over

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.(Just a warning, this gets a bit dark, so I'll put a warning, although it is a bit important to Daphne's character development.)**

Soon enough, the end of the year was nearing as it turned into late april, with nothing truly exciting happening. It was simply the dragging classes, with the exception of the lectures, and the usual pitiful taunts from Ronald and Draco. However, the year couldn't end with peace, as another huge event happened. As Harry was walking to his quarters with Daphne, Snape walked up to him.

—-

Severus Snape was not a happy man. He was walking up the steps to Dumbledore's office, angry at himself for his moment of weakness. He had let slip Lily's name, and now was looking at the boy with a new light. It was not how he wanted it to go.

He wanted to look at the boy, see his father and leave, but instead he completely contradicts all he stood for. Not only a Ravenclaw, but her eyes, they gave away all the pain the boy had faced. He was frightened of them, for they could bring him to his knees if done right.

He finally reached the stairs, and knocked on Dumbledore's door, receiving permission to enter.

"Hello, Severus."

He looked haggard, the glamours usually there were missing.

"Albus, what is the issue? You look terrible" he asked, his cold voice taking away the possible implication of concern.

"I am growing weary, the curse is becoming more and more troublesome, I fear one day that is all that will be left of me."

"But… that cannot happen, he is too dangerous… he could kill the boy, or at the very least leave him with nothing to survive on."

"I believe that the boy would survive, Ms. Greengrass, as unlikely as it may seem, has grown to care for the boy, and knows that he is necessary. Mr. Fawley and Ms. Ollivander would be helpful in achieving the goals towards the end. I would hope you might assist them."

"Of course, But… what would we do without you? You know too much that has never been told to anyone but."

"Maybe, But you know as well as I that secrets, no matter how buried, even if they might be taken to the grave, will be dug up one day."

Snape ponders this, his hooked nose flaring in annoyance at the Old Man and his riddles. Why could he never just say things? He supposed it was a quirk if the old, such as the great Kilgharrah, or Sir Oromis.

"What would you have me do, Albus?"

—

"The Philosopher's Stone, But… I-I thought N-Nicholas Flamel h-h-had it… th-that means…" He stuttered, much like Quirrel. He pocketed the stone immediately, wary of what might happen if somebody saw it. He had already seen the look of lust on Daphne's face as she gazed at the stone.

He grabbed her arm and dragged her into their suite, as he pulled it out again, careful to keep it out of reach. As he gazed at it, he wondered whether Flamel knew that it was gone, and quickly penned a letter for him, after putting it back in his pocket, and taking Daphne over to her bedroom.

"Look, Daphne, I need to put you in this room for your own safety. It's too dangerous, I don't know whether you can resist the pull of the stone, I don't even know how I am keeping myself from crazy things, alright?" He did not let her finish aas he proceeded to lock her from the outside. As he wrote out the letter, he pondered what he should put in it. He decided to keep it short and sweet.

_Dear Mr. Flamel_

_It has come to my attention that you do not currently have your stone in your possession, as it has recently fallen to my hands. I do not wish to give it to you via owl, as it is too easily intercepted, but send me a letter back with my Phoenix, and I will see what I can do about bringing it to you. I do not know what would happen if it were to Phoenix-travel, so you can understand my wariness of bringing it you that way, I hope._

_From_

_Harrison Poterimus_

As he finished the letter, He carefully put it in one of his envelopes, and sealed it. Stamping it with the wax crest of the house of Potter, he handed it over to Hedwig, who grabbed it in her beak and left in a flash of fire. He then took it and wrapped it in delicate cloth, putting it in a box, and silently asking Hogwarts, who he had learned to communicate with, as he was the unofficial heir, to put it somewhere safe, It disappeared in a bright flash, as he pondered what to do next.

The year was almost over, with it having entered early June. Quirrell was dead, and he shivered at the thought, pushing it back. The philosophers stone handed to him by Snape, yet other than that it had been a pretty normal year, other than the betrothals, of course. He went to grab Daphne, and unlocked the door, when it burst open and she looked around wildly, he having fallen to the floor simply looked on, stunned. Her eyes finally fell onto him, and she spoke only three words.

"Where is it?" She growled, anger beginning to build up. Harry grabbed his wand, sliding out of his holster, and cast the water charm, blasting her right in the face. She was sputtering and when it finally stopped, instead of a wild look in her eyes it was an angry one. His eyes widened as he ran to the window, intent on jumping.

He had just reached it, his wings spreading to their eight feet span when her hand reached out and grabbed one. He squeaked in pain as he shook. She demanded he come back from the window, and once she let go, he grabbed onto ledge and hauled himself over. He lay their, panting as she glared down at him so hard it could have killed a dragon.

Just when she was about to berate him, Gracie flew up, intent on finding what had scared her rider so, when she saw Daphne. She had grown to a massive 20 feet, and had another 20 to go, making her a truly imposing character. Daphne squeaked in surprise and rushed back, nearly pissing herself. Satisfied, Gracie flew back as Harry got up, dusting himself off.

He looked at Daphne as if to say, _You deserved that. _And walked off.

—

Harry awoke after a good night's sleep, ready for his day. He continued to ponder his classes as he went about his morning routine, Shower, teeth, _De-Ordorans_, clothes.

Once he walked out, he noticed Daphne was already gone, the door opened slightly. He shrugged, and left the room, locking it behind him as he went to meet with his friends. They had a week until classes, and he intended to talk to them about McGonagall's Animagus theory.

"Hey guys, how's it going?" He shouted out to Trip and Liz, missing the person standing in a nearby corner.

"Harry! Hey, man, I was just reviewing the stuff in the MBOM, it's all really cool." Trip responded, slowing down as Harry caught up.

"What is the MBOM?"

"Ah, the Monster Book of Monsters, we aren't actually supposed to get it until third year if we pick Care of Magical Creatures, But I was reading our Defense book, and some of the creatures caught my eye" Trip told Harry, excitement shining in his eyes.

They talked about the creatures, Trip delving deep into them as Harry listened on, enraptured by the dark creatures. He shivered as he heard of Dementors, he did NOT want to come across them. While he wasn't certain what profession he would choose, he was, after all, only eleven, he decided to check them out after Daphne pushed him over to it.

He found Auror's interesting, but with the way Quirrel taught the subject, and the new professor they had gotten, Mr. Smedry, he was unsure. Smedry talked about it all with excitement, but the many scars he had put Harry off a bit. His odd glasses made him look strange as well.

They finished breakfast quickly, excited for McGonagall to finish her lecture she had started at the beginning of the year. She had promised that had everybody done well, she would finish the bit from 7th year theory.

Once they arrived, Harry caught Daphne's eye, and noticed the slight guilt. He sighed and walked over to apologize, but the door opened and McGonagall called them inside. He took a seat next to Daphne as the lecture began, careful to keep his parchment and quill at the ready.

"Now, last time we covered how, by all means, Muggles are unnatural. I promised that if you all did well in your exams, I would cover this topic again, and I shall now fulfill my end of the bargain.

"As I said before, magic is tied into the very essence of the world, it was initially believed impossible to survive without it. When Muggles were born around the time of wizards, it was believed to be an omen, that humans could walk two paths, one to salvation one to damnation. Of course, this is simply speculation and divination, neither of which are reliable.

"Animagus are wizards who connect us back to our magical friends by transforming us into animals, with the exception of those tied closest to magic, as to keep us stronger. Those whose animal forms are more closely linked with magic, are more powerful wizards and witches. Cats, for example, were once thought to be magical enough for us to be unable to access them as Animagus, but when muggles came along and domesticated them, they sucked up their magic like dementors, souls.

"Of course, there is sti a reason they were worshipped by Egypt, and even now, they are one of the most powerful ones of those animals, coming to a close third, with lions, and all types of birds. Birds are the most magically superior animal, excluding ourselves. The Thunderbird and Phoenix are excellent examples, align with the Hippogriff and Griffin. Unfortunately, it also means that the quicker magic dies, the quicker they die.

"Golden Eagles, the closest related to Thunderbirds, are a hot topic for magical debaters, since there has never been anyone with a proven Animagus form, and they are so significantly related to our own Thunderbirds, that despite the fact Muggles discovered them and have attempted to consume their magic, they flourish, which would mean either their magic is supremely weak, or impressively strong.

"The Lion is closely related to the Nundu, along with the tiger. Birds and Felines are the most magically powerful of families, along with Canines as a third. Lizards were once thought to be the Number one, but with the discovery of birds relation to dinosaurs and their ancient magic, they have fallen to fourth.

"Now, all experts in the world have noticed that with the impending extinction of muggles, magic has been getting stronger, the Earth reverting to a more primal state of being, and even helping us, by sending more natural disasters."

"We Constantly underestimate them, though, because they are beings of dangerous potential. Dumbledore is seen as a muggle lover, but that is false. He favors muggle-Borns, first gens, while fearing Muggles, for they carry weapons of Ultimate Destruction."

"Ms. McGonagall, if I may, how are magicals born of Muggles, if they are two different species?"

"Mr. Weasley, that is an excellent question. To put it simply, there are three different types of squibs. The first, are the ones who have a limited magical core, they have magic, but their core is so small they can barely cast the simplest of spells.

"The second, are those whose core can be any variation in size, but whose increase in magic is nothing. They cannot gain magic, this is actually the second most common, and incredibly unique. The first, of course, being the most common. The rarest are those who have the normal sized core, but gain the tiniest bit of magic. They, actually, can cast magic, but it would take a long time."

"The third type of squib tend to be the angriest, and most terrorist attacks in the magical world tend to have been committed by them, since they are angry they could not go to Hogwarts despite us having no control over it. They also tend to be easily manipulated because of this. Now, Mr. Weasley, I would like to ask how you knew of this?"

"Well, my cousin is actually a squib, and I learned quite a bit when I was wondering why he chose to leave. It turns out he is actually the second type of squib."

"Then your cousin is a most unique type of squib. They have a unique mutation. Most of the other squibs rarely ever last long, simply because their biology won't allow it. Much like muggles energy, magical work off magic. Instead of neurons firing off the electricity in our bodies, they use magic in this unique sense. You cousin is one of the reasons that Muggles are slowly turning, since because of this lack of magic their body naturally works on the energy.

"When this type of squib mates with a Muggle, they have a likely chance of passing on the gene necessary to have a magical core, which, eventually, would likely result in a child that can cast magic normally. In fact, it is highly likely that ⅔ of the current muggle population is this type of squib, while the rest are simply normal muggles. This is the main reason why they are dying out, since those types of squibs tend to dislike staying our society, much like Mr. Weasley's cousin, and breed with normal muggles resulting in more squibs eventually becoming all wizards."

Then, the bell for class to end signaled, and everyone began to pack up, as Harry looked over, he grabbed Daphne and took her into a cupboard.

"Look, Daphne, I'm really sorry about this morning. You were just caught up in the Philosopher's Stone's spell and I wanted to make sure you weren't thirst because of it."

"It's alright Harry, I understand. I'm actually quite glad you stopped me, I'm afraid of what might have happened, I don't want to turn insane."

Daphne gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and left the cupboard.

They rest of the day continued as normal, and Harry went back to his room. There, he set his books down and pulled out a work story books.

He had read the Tales of Beedle the Bard after having bought it from Flourish and a lotta during his trip to Diagon Alley. He was quite fascinated by the tale of the Three Hallows, and hope she could get all three, hoping to meet Death himself.

All he needed was the Resurrection Stone, But it was the most shrouded in mystery, other than the cloak but he already had it. The Elder Wand was possibly the easiest to find, he had recognized it in Dumbledore's hand immediately, and was happy he had managed to take it over as its Master.

**(WARNING-MEANTIONS OF RAPE ~NO, NOT ON DAPHNE~ SKIP THIS IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO READ, ITS NOT FOR SENSITIVE PEOPLE, I KNOW MYSELF)**

Before he could start reading, Daphne had come in his room, closing his door behind her. She sat next to him, and looked down at her hands, fidgeting. This may have been the most vulnerable Harry had ever seen her.

"Harry, I need to confess something to you. It's really important that you know this, especially since we are to be wed."

"What is it Daphne? You can tell me anything?" Harry knew what it was like to keep secrets, and hoped that it might not be as bad as some of his.

"I, I was abused as a kid. My Uncle lived with my family for a while before he died, and he was a truly despicable man. I was lucky, my sister was used by him for his pleasure, but all I got was hurt. He was constantly drunk, and since my parents were always working, he was never discovered.

"He died when he apparated while drunk, and split himself in half, before the magical accidents branch could save him"

"I'm so sorry, but what do you mean you're sister was used for his pleasure?" Harry's heart clenched, his head pounding in worry. He may not know Astoria Greengrass, but he still cared for her, if only because she was related to his betrothed.

"He couldn't take her virginity as the heiress to a very important family, my parents would have known immediately and killed him, but there are other ways…"

"By the Gods, I'm so sorry! Is she okay?"

"She got any and all damage reversed, once my parents found out, unfortunately after he died, they took her to a secret potion master and turned back her age, so that she would never have to go through it all, and obliviated her. She used to be three years older than me, but…"

"What the Hell was wrong with that man!? Tell me he at least suffered before he died!" Harry yelled, losing control of his emotions, his magic reacting to the story. He hugged Daphne as she cried into his shirt, releasing magic to comfort her.

"Yeah, he suffered for 2 hours before he bled out. The Man was a monster, and deserved what he got, if not worse. I almost died once, but he ended up having to heal me, one of the reasons he became a drunk, he never got to be a healer."

"So, is he the reason you keep up this cold facade?"

"Yes, I had to, it kept him away, but my sister never managed to control her emotions like me, because I was the secondary heiress, and I was the most in danger at being used by others like the Malfoy's. But because her age was reversed, I became heiress primary, and was marked to marry you."

"I'm sorry that it all happened to you, I wish I could fix it, but it seems that time travel is impossible without a turner."

Daphne giggled a bit throughout her crying, and soon enough they passed out in each other's arms.

**(END OF ALL THAT UNFORTUNATE SHIT!)**

—-

Daphne awoke first, looked at their position, blushed, and carefully extracted herself, from the position.

She quickly moved over to her room, and began packing. Tomorrow, summer would begin. Hopefully it'd be good.

**Plz Review!**


	9. Who We Are

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

Harry yawned and stretched. It was the summer right after his first year, and already he was both excited and disappointed. First, because he would be going to Hogwarts in 3 months, second, because he'd be going to Hogwarts in 3 months.

He sighed, and got out of bed. Heading into the kitchen, the boy reflected on his life:

First, he'd arrived at the Dursley's. There, he met his Cousin, and disgusting Aunt as well as his fat Uncle. Abused since he was six, cleaning since he was four. His cousin and he made a pact, and it had yet to go unbroken. Those years pretty much meshed together, until he received his letter. Went to Gringotts, received his inheritance, got an awesome Mansion, cool House Elves, learned about magic.

Heading off to Hogwarts, he was excited! He'd learn about magic, meet new people, get new friends and the like. There, the boy had found Trip, Hermione, Hagrid, Neville, Daphne and Elizabeth. Learning a great deal, including how powerful he was, the boy was ill-prepared for how things would turn out. He'd had to kill a professor... it still gave him nightmares. He couldn't even raise his wand against Vernon when the man shoved him inside.

Harry has become an Animagus, a Golden Eagle. Eventually, his wings had finally disappeared when he was human. But it all came crashing down when he had gotten his first vision.

Nowadays they had stopped, but before had persisted in his dreams for months. Then it ended, and he was sent to the Dursleys.

Of course-Why is he there, and not his awesome Mansion? Dumbledore! The living contradiction. The man seemed hell-bent on confusing the boy, as one time he'd help him with a new spell, another he'd show Harry to his office and order him to the Dursleys, eventually pulling some Wizengamot bullshit to place the Old Man as his Magical Guardian(Whatever that was) and prevent him from going against him.

Ugh, why couldn't life just be nice?

Now breakfast is done, he snagged a couple slices of bacon, some eggs and more, shoving them in his pockets for Hedwig later. Speaking of which...

Sprinting off to his room so as to avoid the Dursley crowd, locking the door from the inside he turned to his awe-inspiring Phoenix. The one who gave him Hope all this would be fixed. Grace was at Hogwarts, being tended to by Hagrid who was ecstatic at caring for a Dragon!

He flicked his hand, using a bit of wandless magic he had practiced. Of course, it was the only spell he could perform after an entire year of practicing, but it still felt great. Opening to a random page, he decided the theory on Transfiguration would be worth some good.

Apparently, while it all seemed quite simple in theory, the reason it was one of the hardest branches of Magic was because of two factors; Imagination and Mass. Neither matter dealt with power, which was why he seemed to be somewhat crap at the later forms when Daphne could perform quite a few advanced methods.

Imagination mattered because you had to picture the object in your mind; a feat those with strict Occlumency, like him, or older people, like Sprout, found hard. Unfortunately, it wasn't a skill you could just learn, but Harry was learning to relinquish some degree of control over his mind and it had helped him quite a bit.

He imagined that without Occlumency, he would be just as good as his father once was.

As for Mass, well it was quite simple. As you tried to transform an object into bigger and bigger forms, it becomes more difficult to complete. Take turning lead to gold-simple in theory, but more complicated in practice.

Lead was thicker and more tightly packed than Gold, so when you transformed the two, you'd be releasing a lot of mass into the air, which physics doesn't like. Most weaker wizards would pass out from trying, someone like Ron would probably die. Dumbledore could do it, but it'd take him out of commission for a couple days. Harry could do it when he was an adult with some effort, but as for right now, well... he'd rather not test it.

Closing the book, he decided to simply move on, and pulled out the Charms textbook.

-End of August-

Having hitched a ride on the tube, Harry arrived at Diagon Alley. Walking into Flourish and Blotts, he groaned. Some pretty wizard seemed to be having a book signing, and everyone was lined up.

But wait! Less attention focused on him! Grinning with new spirit, the boy quickly collected all his textbooks-along with a few interesting reads, of course-and pulled up to the counter, ignoring his name being called.

Just as the man was upon him, he grabbed his books, cast an impedimenta curse on the pretty boy, and sprinted out the door, breathing a sigh of relief as he slumped down the apothecaries entrance. And so he completed his shopping, before slamming into Hermione as he headed inside Madam Malkin's.

"Sorry, Hermione! Sorry, sorry, sorry! Wasn't paying attention!" He quickly helped pick up her supplies, and handed them to the girl, who blushed.

"H-hey Harry, g-good to see you! D-did you g-get my letter?" Hermione's blush grew even deeper as her mother looked on smugly, taking a couple pounds from the frowning father.

"Yeah, and thanks for the chocolates! They really made my day!" He grinned, puzzled at her response but brushing it off as embarrassment.

So they set out, conversing and eating a bit of Fortescue's as they spoke over their summers. Hermione had gone to Italy, where the Bookworm went to several museums, monuments and beaches. She had even made a scrap-book of it for the boy, who was grateful as he had yet to go out of country, and was happy the girl had remembered, not judging him for his relatives.

As they talked, Harry began analyzing the girl next to him, comparing her to Daphne. She was book smart, almost memorizing entire textbooks from reading them over several times. Also more caring and emotional, up front with all that she thought. Yet at the same time, Hermione was prone to pretentiousness, could be rude and didn't always get every fact right.

Daphne was more reserved, and tended to mix both street and book smarts; Masterful at Transfiguration, terrible at DADA. She was also colder, distant to Hermione's forwardness. Subtler, would be accurate. She was never rude, but was also hardly empathetic, having never really connected to Harry in the same way he did to Hermione.

Soon enough, they arrived back at F&B, where Harry went in with Hermione in order to protect the girl from the pure-bloods. Yep, that's it. Protect her. Nothing else.

"Hey, Harry! Come check this out! This book talks about all the Lords and Ladies and titles! Aren't you one?" As Harry stepped toward her, a shiver ran down his back. Lockhart. The man from earlier. Right behind him. Oh gods...

"Eep-!" Harry squeaked as he was caught in the Man's grasp, and he saw the flash of a camera.

"Harry Potter! The boy-who-lived, famous beyond recognition! Of course, nothing compared to me." He grinned one of those award winning smiles as a flash went off, but before anything else could be said, Lockhart's grasp was ripped away and there stood a sight even the Devil would flinch from.

Hermione Granger stood there, shaking from rage as she readied a blowout.

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU!? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU! SOME KIND OF PEDOPHILIC NARCISSIST THAT CAN'T SEE WHEN SOMEONE'S UNCOMFORTABLE!? BACK THE HELL OFF OLD MAN, BEFORE I KICK YOUR BOLLOCKS UP YOUR ARSE AND OUT YOUR MOUTH!" Mouth hanging open from her language, Harry was pulled out of the shop by a huffing Hermione as her parents stayed inside to have a few words with the Blonde Idiot.

Soon she calmed down and then walked the rest of the trip together in comfortable silence, neither noticing their hand holding. Harry was busy processing what had just happened, Hermione going over what she had read.

Harry has several titles from what he had told her, though he refused to name any beyond Potter. As with the usual draconian laws, it meant he had to take several wives. The marriage contract meant Daphne would care for one, but the girl could hardly bear enough for children for several! A bit more research had revealed each wife would be taking any name they wished, so say if she married Harry for she'd like but wanted the Potter name, she could and her children would simply take on the secondary one of the line she chose. Hell, he could have 4 titles and have 2 wives, though it'd be painful.

Blushing, she moved away from this trail of thought, and instead considered the upcoming year. It'd certainly be exciting! Especially since according to the books she's read, next year was about the time to begin courting, so many a bit and girl would be on the watch for prospective mates. So different from the Muggle World... but Harry has taught her to remember the Wizarding World wasn't backwards, it was simply different. An opposing Culture, one that branched off around the Victorian Era, and there were subtle hints that it was just as advanced as the Muggle world, hiding in plain sight.

Hermione's parents, meanwhile, were considering the girl she had grown to be. First, she'd been bullied for big teeth, which they'd learned the girl had fixed in her first year. They had been disappointed, but understanding. Then, for her reading. Once the bullies learned that didn't affect her. It went on to her having no friends. It led to poor social skills, which they noticed had ramped up with the young Wizard's influence.

Boys turned to look at her as she had bought a potion that would let her reach her beauty, the one she could have if she really worked at it, naturally, and boys had clearly noticed. They had all flirted with her non-stop, and even through Matt, her father, wanted to bash them in, Clara, her mother, had convinced him to step back and pay attention.

She wasn't responding, and when he inevitably questioned why, Clara explained it was because of another boy. Matt has immediately gone off for his shotgun, but once the woman had learned of his plan, a huge shouting match ensued, though it was very one-sided in favor of Clara. He had slept on the couch for two months as a result, though the week-long sex marathon almost made it worth it. Almost.

As Harry and Hermione we're walking, Harry decided to explain to Hermione why there were Royal "Houses" instead of just one.

"There used to be one, Emrys, Merlin's original line, but no one really knows what happened. Around the same time as the French Revolution, not too long with Wizard's 200-ish lifespan, and their Monarchy was overthrown, the same was done with their Wizarding one.

"While Muggles have chosen to basically rid themselves of their Monarchies, the Wizarding World in general has kept them, with the exceptions of Britain, France and the Colonies, though China, India and Japan have Emperors like their Muggle counterparts once did.

"Well, around that time, many French Wizards were running off to Britain to escape the heat, unfortunately with them came the purists to hunt, so the ideologies were brought along and democracy was riven into their heads.

"Instead of being overthrown, though, the Emrys line simply stepped down from their position of power, though nobody's seen them since. Most assume they died out, I think they're still around." Harry eyed Fortescue's, but Hermione wouldn't let him stop.

"So... would they still be the official rulers of Magical Britain, since it wasn't technically replaced? And does anyone know anything for sure about them?" She tugged one his hand to bring his attention back to her.

"Huh? Oh, yeah... well, no. While not officially replaced, their power was divided up among the other old houses, you know, Longbottom, Potter, etc. That's how the Wizengamot was formed, though there was more that happened. And I don't believe there are any 100% accurate accounts of what happened." Harry finally dragged her over to the Ice cream shop, and ordered his favorite.

"Now, in an effort to learn more, why is the Wizarding World stuck in the Victorian Era?" She asked this innocently, but even Harry cringed as several people glared at them.

"It's not, Hermione. And don't say it so loud! People are fickle creatures. While superficially it might seem so, that's just because we've never had to change our designs, since it's when we split. It allows us to be distinct, and establishes that we are separate from them. Because, as you should recall from Mcgonnagall's lecture, we are." Harry was patient, but it was clear her question annoyed him.

"Well, they are still basic compared to Muggles, right? I mean, they have guns and bombs and cities." Harry visibly glared here, and Hermione shrank a bit underneath it. He typically had an even temper, so it just went to show how much her question pissed him off.

Breathing in and out, he explained delicately:

"That's a question that symbolizes very superficial research into Wizarding culture and abilities. Biologically, at the very least, Wizards are better than Muggles." Her raised a hand to her argument, and continued, this time staring Right. At. You. "Wizards control a primordial force, something so powerful and elemental the Muggles can't detect it, something that exists inside most living beings and is incredible.

"Using this force, we can kill dragons, tame seas and topple mountains. Muggle Gods are based off of powerful witches and wizards. Every. Single. One. A powerful basic bombarda, in the right hands, could level cities. Magic is wonderful, but also dangerous. You want to know why we haven't already taken over the world, despite the fact we so clearly can?" Hermione nodded.

"Because we don't want to. It isn't even necessary, Muggles are going extinct naturally. If this doesn't prove we are the next evolution, I don't know what would. Think about it; using a bit of poly juice and basic acting ability, any wizard could sneak into the State's presidential office, impersonate him and take control of their bombs. Same for the Prime Minister, King of Latvia, etc.! Then use them, blow up all the capitals in the world!" Hermione was clearly into this, even leaning forward a bit as Harry spoke passionately, his hatred for his relatives now spread as he spoke the word Muggle with Venom.

"Anyone who says Muggles are stronger than Wizards is a fool. Sure, many of us are idiots, but imagine if Dumbledore got pissed. If Voldemort thought for even a second he could get away with it and had no Wizarding opposition. We can control the Earth, Hermione!" For demonstration, he raised a sole of dirt, before letting it all back. "Fire, water and air are our bitches! Don't ever say Muggles are stronger than us."

Having gone down from his high, her looked towards Hermione who was staring at him in awe, before wiping it away, as they finished their ice cream which was spilling down the sides; Hermione's parents having gone to check out some of the local products.

Harry's incident with Dobby was just wonderful. Really, he was happy! Out of the house, having ran away, nobody could stop him! He had even met a large black dog, who looked severely underfed and mangy. When it begged for food, who was he to turn him away? So he offered the dog a comfortable room, unsure why he actually spoke, and it bounced around, yipping!

Getting in the Knight bus, he headed to the Leaky Cauldron, since his Mansion was too far, he didn't want anyone to know about it and it was about a week until school started. Stan was an interesting talk, and he honestly hoped the Boy would prove more successful, he certainly seemed smart, if a bit awkward.

He arrived in his room, where he, Hedwig, and the newly christened Erebus finally slept.

**R&R plz!**


	10. Truth Be Known

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

Harry woke up in that room, where Hedwig and Erebus slept, the Phoenix on his bedpost, the dog at his feet. He checked the time with the first year spell Tempus, then slipped on his clothes. The time for Hogwarts was nearing, and he needed to be prepared. Kragrakk had set up a meeting so he could learn about his abilities, his family and his finances.

He slipped down the stairs, sitting at the bar. Hermione and her parents had left the other day, promising to see him on the train as he waved goodbye. Once he ordered, he looked around the pub, enjoying his butterbeer. There were many people standing around, and he spotted the pretty man from earlier. God, he's disgusting.

"Hey, Tom, who is that man over there?" He politely questioned the barkeep, making sure to keep his disgust away.

"Ugh, that's Gilderoy Lockhart. Best get ruddy, son, he's going to be your new Defense Professor. Unfortunately, I can't blame Dumbledore. He's supposed to be incredibly qualified, though it's bupkis if you ask me. Not to mention there isn't exactly a line of people waiting. Wouldn't be surprised if he was the only one." Tom glared at the man, clearly unhappy to have him in his bar.

"Great, well, thanks for the info, Tom." He tossed a sickle onto the bar and headed back up to get started on his schoolwork. The meeting was in a few hours, and he needed some way to kill the time.

When Harry got up, he opened up the book about brooms he had gotten from Ronald, who he had been surprised had gifted him a present. He had noticed a change in the boys demeanor around the third quarter into the school year, but still avoided him like the plague.

It talked about quite a few things he hadn't known before, and was definitely curious to try. He had only been able to practice during the few flight classes they had the previous year, since he had been focusing on his studies, but he hoped to make time in his schedule this time. The experience was breathtaking.

When he eventually finished the book, he quickly slipped over to the transfiguration one. It was much less descriptive about theory, and he noticed that the same applied to all the books as they got to the upper levels. They seemed to focus on that area early on, which was why he was so glad he had focused on his schoolwork the first year. There would have been no way he could pass the rest of his years.

This one focused more on transfiguring living creatures, and it was interesting. Personally, he didn't see the appeal. They didn't really work on wizards, since their magic was so distinct from another, and wouldn't be too helpful in duels. It wouldn't work on any sort of intelligent magical creature, such as Dragons, Unicorns, Elves, etc. Of course, now he was curious why THAT was.

Opening his Defense textbook hoping for more information on it, there was nothing. Not in that there was nothing in the book, but it was absolute crap. Nothing helpful was contained in the novel, and he actually threw it to the ground in disgust. What the hell was this pile of-

He noticed the author, and groaned. So THIS was why the man wanted the job. Increase book sales, or he really just believed he was that good. 'Whatever' he thought as he gathered the lot of them to return.

When he finally got through the line and returned the books, he noticed Lucius Malfoy and Arthur Weasley in a fight. As predictable, each Weasley was cheering for Arthur, while Draco appeared horrified at what his father was doing. He stepped forward, but Hagrid got between the two before he could.

The Half-Giant looked good, considering he generally wore a mole-skin coat and giant, ugly clothes. He still had his coat, but it appeared to have finally gotten a wash, and was cleaner than anything he had ever seen Hagrid wear. The man had a giant sweater on over a nice hand-woven wool shirt, and baggy leather pants. His giant boots almost shook the ground as he tangled mess of hair looked combed, and even cut a bit. Overall, it was clear the man had cleaned up. The Wealseys left soon after, but he stopped the twins before they could follow, grabbing a frightened Draco at the same time.

"Alright, first, Draco. Get a handle on your father, and make sure he isn't doing something sinister. You don't want to feel my wrath because of a mistake he made." Giving the blond boy a glare, he quickly scampered off, before Harry turned towards the Twins, who had mischievous smirks on and looked ready for a prank. "You two, I want to talk. I've heard you've been pranking the first years, and it's got to stop. I know you like to be mischievous, but that is just being cruel. Also, I've got a present."

He presented them with a copy of the Marauder's grimoire, which he had King make. It was keyed solely to the three of them, and he made sure to inform them that that for anyone else, it just looked like a Transfiguration textbook. Since the two were well known for their prowess in that field, it wouldn't be too odd.

Now he was headed to Gringotts, nodding the the Goblin Guards and passing the classic sign, standing in front of one of the podiums. There, they directed him towards the normal door, and he sat down quickly, smiling at the old Goblin in front of him.

"Mr. Poterimus, how wonderful to meet up with you." As Harry opened his mouth, the wizened warrior held up a hand; "Now is not the time to speak, Mr. Poterimus, now is the time to learn. Goblin younglings do not speak during the entire course of their education, and the same will apply to you, at least while we are here. As such, let us begin" He stood up, motioning for Harry to stay as he pulled out a chalkboard, and Harry brought his parchment and quill.

"Let us begin with your titles. We know you are the Heir Potter, as well as Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. You are secondary heir to the Black title, and have one mysterious one. Each of these families is Patriarchal with the exception of Hufflepuff, though it is noted that none of the founders were in charge of their own line, instead being part of their respective cadets." He wrote each title on a blackboard, crossing out Hufflepuff as a potential one for him to take.

"Unfortunately, the main lines all died out some 4 hundred years ago, and though there are those of Founder blood as well, you are part of the Primary Cadet line, as such you hold the most influence over each, and will be the next Lord for all but Hufflepuff, which will pass to one of your Daughters. I need to make this clear, as there will be those who attempt to force you to hand over that line's title, despite the fact you cannot." Here, he marked several underlines over the crossed out work, and made sure to highlight that there were others who might want the other lines.

"Each one holds influence in the Wizengamot, as you know, but what you may not realize, is that as such you hold power over social interactions as well. With so many powerful bloodlines coursing through your veins, many will seek to be in your favour. As such, every time someone comes to offer you a gift, or sends a message for your support, you must think through it clearly as they will take it as a sign of an Alliance, and those with a female heir may seek to get them to marry you." Here, he set down the chalk and walked up to the boy, staring into his eyes.

"Never Accept. No matter what, never accept or sign any contract without my express permission, as there are dozens of different possibilities and wordings that could have you sign over your entire wealth to whoever. Never. Ever. Sign any sort of contract, without me there to watch their movements, and to read over the contract. Even if it saves your life, it may very well not be worth it. They could force you into slavery, perhaps worse. Neither Grongotts nor the Ministry can do anything legal if you even accidently nick your thumb and bleed on the wrong piece of paper. The good thing? They're all based on intent, so don't worry about that, so long as you don't intend to sign it, nothing can happen. Ever." He stepped back, and finished his lecture.

"Each lower class family must bow to you unless you give them express permission they must not, in any formal situation. Those that are informal, they must always offer a handshake. It was a trick though up by the families of old to prevent those holding a knife from stabbing you." From there, it was all basic things everyone should know, but Harry did note that he mentioned the Peverell family. Supposedly, Voldemort was the 1st heir, and as a descendant of the Potermius family, he would take the family if Voldemort died. Unfortunately, the man had yet to claim it, so Harry couldn't declare the right of conquest. As soon as he got the title, he could unite the Hallows and become the true Master of Death, which explained why he hadn't really felt anything as Master of the Elder Wand or the Invisibility Cloak.

The man moved onto finances, which was quite boring. 1 Galleon to £4.93, and 1 Sickles to £0.29. Honestly, it was quite simple. The Wizards operated their own economy anyways, there were enough wizarding business it hardly mattered what the exchange rate was. The only time anyone ever transferred it, was Muggle parents for their Muggleborn child or the few Muggleborns who decided to stay in the Muggle World. Despite Blood Purity, it was hardly encountered in the Ministry except when they got really high, and most started their own businesses. Also, seriously, who the hell would consider that!? They'd be seventeen, even eighteen! By then, they'd have completely missed Secondary school. At that point, they might get an entry level job at the local shop, which was a pity considering they could get even more with a Ministry job, since they had cultivated a higher economy.

Since that was over, he moved on to abilities. Harry held some of the rarest, with the exception of Animagus transformation. Harry had been diligently taking notes, but he focused even more here, as it was fascinating to him. Mcgonnagall's lecture on Animagus had been fascinating, but she had hardly gone into depth about the rest of them.

"Magical abilities are some of the rarest, and most unique forms of magic. Each one is said to have been gifted by Merlin to each of the prominent family lines, but due to the inbreeding, anyone of pure or half blood has a chance at receiving any of them, with the general exception of those that typically fall to the Dark families, not found inn Light, and those found in the Light families, lacking in the Dark. Those who belong to Grey houses are an exception, as they could inherit any ability." Kragrakk was about to move on, but Harry spoke for the first time in the last several hours, having finally broken.

"Kragrakk, sir, I noticed in my Inheritance Test it said my magic was Light-Grey, what does that mean? Also, that my magic is Pure?" Kragrakk sighed, as Harry flinched from his outburst, but of course the Goblin understood his curiosity. It was a Wizard trait that was one of the few things he admired.

"Fine, your magic is Pure, because you have not practiced any tainted magic. When I speak fo tainted magic, I am not referring to the Killing, Torture or Command curses, I am speaking of those belonging to a class of power unknown, whose displays have not been witnessed in thousands of years, until Voldemort cam along. I speak of Horcruxes, and other soul-wrenching things. Rituals that could tear apart living beings, magic that has sent entire species to extinction." He sighed, slumping in his chair as he poured himself a glass of Firewhiskey.

"Why do you think so few Dragons still live? And so few Hybrids exist? Because the Dragons are afraid of what would happen if they crossbred." He threw down the drink, as he poured himself another glass. Hary honestly felt bad now. "Many years ago, a Parselmouth by the name of Herpo the Foul, attempted to command Dragons under his power. They refused, and as a result, he used his magic to slay all but Ten species, who he left aside as a mercy, and a warning." He sipped the whiskey this time, and breathed out once more.

"A wizard by the name of Paracelsus, credited with many big discoveries, was all but forgotten in his evil ones. He eliminated the entire Basilisk population, a species founded by Herpo the Foul, despite the truth that only those commanded by a Parslemouth could do evil. He sent the Chimera and Manticore populations to the brink, and the Chimera soon went extinct and the Manticore have reached a total of 30 carefully watched over specimens." He was visibly shaking as he took the entire bottle and swallowed it, now Harry was beginning to curl in on himself, small tears faintly visible on his cheeks.

"The Man credited with the discovery of medicine also slaughtered the Erumpents for their horns in an effort to create a Philosopher's stone, murdered the Occamy population and sent the Crumple-Horned Snorkack into extinction. Well… There are 4 total specimens still alive today, under the careful watch of Gringotts. We intend to revive them, with little luck so far." Now Harry was ready to throw up, and Kragrakk looked not better, having finished his bottle. Grabbing another one, He continued his lecture.

"There were once many species of Wizards and Goblins, Neanderthals had their own branch. THere were Healer Goblins, Dark Goblins, Light Goblins, tall Goblins, rock Goblins. I don't know too much about Wizards, but there were Wizards of every aspect, supposedly, Red, Blue, Green. Each one was gifted a colour to represent their specialities of power. Now, there are merely Warrior Goblins and White, Black as well as Grey Wizards. Herpo the Foul discovered horcruxes, and eventually found a spell none were meant to discover." He groaned, remembering his history lessons from Gringotts Primary.

"Using them, he manipulated his soul, corrupted it, until he was completely insane, and as such, used his power to destroy all the Goblins but those of use to him, the Warriors. With them, he slowly began eliminating all Wizards, until there were but two subspecies left of them. The Light, the Dark and the Grey. Each one had barely branched off from the rest, as such were closer together, and were able to work to destroy Herpo. But, the battle tore them apart…" He leaned back in remembrance form a memory he had seen in a pensieve:

_It was a dark day, and Herpo marched up to the Wizard generals, Marvolo, James, and Percival._

"_Surrender," he said. "Surrender or else we will destroy you all and end the last of the Wizards. You stand no chance."_

_But each one stood, glaring right into the face of the most evil man alive, and laughed._

"_You will fall, Herpo, and we will free the Goblins from your tyrannical Rule!"_

"_My Tyrannical rule?" He questioned. Laughing, he pulled out his staff. "Feel the power of Evil!"_

_The battle began, and it was vicious._

_Herpo sent a blood boiler to each wizard, but they dodged and fired back. Herpo raised his golden shield, and laughed in their faces._

"_You think your puny spells can defeat me!? I am the most powerful wizard alive!" His power unmatched, he continued to shoot his most evil spells, bone-breakers, decapitation spells, flaying curses, flesh-curlers, each one missed. They sent back their own spells, but none was quite powerful enough to defeat the almighty wizard. "Goblins, destroy them!"_

_Axes flew everywhere, as wizard after wizard was cut down, the Goblins had no choice but to obey the Evil One's power. One Man walked out, and threw a curse at a Goblin, but was stabbed through the chest as it connected with it's target, a bright purple light killing a Goblin soldier._

_From there, the battle raged. Bright lights flashing and hitting silver shields as silver swords smashed through stone walls. The Grey Castle, the place in which the founders would rebuild and rename Hogwarts, shook as it fell to pieces, the last stand of wizardkind._

_Percival was unrelenting as he sent stunner after stunner at the Evil Man, Marvolo would not stop as he dodged and threw a piercing curse at the Wizards torse, but it was James who finally ended it all. He summoned his strength and shot his most powerful spell, a Lumos Maxima, which blinded the wizard. In those few seconds, the others shattered his staff, the crunch! Of it breaking resounded throughout the battlefield as Percival decapitated the man._

_But unfortunately, it did not end well. As would happen thousands of years later, only one of them stood, as James had used all his magic to blind his enemy, and died from the expenditure of magic, lying peacefully in the scorched dirt. Marvolo had fared far worse, as a stray dagger from one of the Goblins had pierced his heart, and in this great irony, the Man who had always sought to save magic was stabbed in the back as a curse from one of his own men had hit it, and sent the weapon at him. Magic had chosen him to die. Percival fell to his knees, the odour of corpses filling his nose as he crawled towards his fallen friends, holding Marvolo in his final breath. With great sorrow, he buried each one, and left the land to never be seen again._

_This divided the men as with no leader, they turned on each other, finalizing the border between Light, Dark and Grey._

"This is what makes you unique, as you are a rare product of two different species, the Light and the Grey. Few hybrids had been seen since that day, with Albus Dumbledore being a combination of Light and Grey as well, Voldemort of one Grey and Dark. You could literally count the total number since that day on two hands with fingers to spare" Kragrakk sipped his whiskey as Harry pondered a question, now unable to ever keep his silence.

"Why not a hybrid of Light and Dark?" Kragrakk chuckled. He knew this one would come into play, and he steadied himself as he answered:

"Light and Dark cannot have a hybrid anymore. Their magic is too far apart, too distant, and any attempt to do so would kill the parents. Think of magic like you would the genes from a parent, then consider it again. Each child gets a bit of magic from each parent, and while at some point early on in the split Light and Dark mingled, as evidenced by the existence of Grey, after that battle they divided and magic sped up what they wished, now ensuring they could no longer breed. Any child of a hybrid would merely result in either a Grey-Dark/Light, or a pure Light/Dark, depending on the magic of the parent." Kragrakk sighed and stood up once more.

"Enough with the History lesson, let us move onto a less depressing topic. Magical Abilities. As you might know, Merlin gifted each line of his time with one ability that was unique solely to them. While admittedly it has not been proven, the evidence seems to point towards such, and there is nothing that proves otherwise." He wrote down each family name on the board.

"There were 20 prominent families, and they were only ones gifted with an ability. The Slytherin family was given Parseltongue, Ravenclaw was gifted with Seers, Hufflepuff took to Badgerspeak, the Gryffindor family was given wings, which is why there are Angels in modern religion. Though, I should note, they only arrive at the age of Thirteen, when the average wizard hits Puberty. Then, they grow out to be incredibly large, and quite beautiful. I would be careful, anyone of Gryffindor descent has always had a pair, though they may not have realised it since their appearance is based on intent, and I have no idea how they shall react with your Eagle ones, though I'm under the belief you will have your eagle form, and you keepsake will likely be eyesight, hearing and claws. Your "Angel" wings will likely only make their appearance while you are human." He laughed at Harry's startled expression, before moving on.

"The other families were Black, Bones, Poterimus, Longbottom, Lestrange, Abbot, Peverell, Crouch, Fawley, Macmillan, Nott, Prewett, Ollivander, Slughorn, Shacklebolt, Weasley, Grindelwald, Dumbledore, Pendragon, Lovegood, Emrys, Smedry, Stark, Haddock, Tyler and Jackson. The Sacred 28 is a farce, a "Compendium" written by a Dark wizard who believed them to be untouchable. Note that he was later murdered in his sleep." He had each name written down, and began writing their abilities under each one.

"In order, from Black to Jackson, it was as such: Metamorphmagi, Necromancy, Occlumency, Magical Resistance, Healing, Motus Seer, Blood, Legilimency, Veela Charm, Posterus Seer, Catspeak, Fire Manipulation, Wand Crafting, Potion Making, Flight, Weaslespeak, Veritas Seer, Ward Making, Magical Smithing, Snorkackspeak, Dragon Taming, Lens Focusing, Earth Manipulation, Air Manipulation, Time Manipulation and Water Manipulation." He took a deep breath, and continued.

"Each of these abilities is unique to every single family, and of course when you question some such as Time, Earth, Fire, Potions, Wand Crafting, there is a unique trait. Each one can be done naturally without a wand, to a degree you would never be able to achieve if you were not of that family, and in some form you would never expect. The Tyler family were unable to change time to whatever they wanted, but they could go back 12 hours if they mastered the ability, imagine that! It may not seem like much, but it suited them, they refused any more power, but they could still win the Muggle Lottery if they so wished! Whatever it may be, while it may not seem like much superficially, has unlimited and unseen potential." He finally finished, and noted the time. Harry was exhausted, as he had spent nearly all day in the room going over all of the information with Kragrakk.

"Well, I think it is best you go to bed, you've a busy week, starting school in just a couple days." With a wave of his hand, Harry was dismissed and Kragrakk cleaned his office, Harry stepping out and noticed most of the customers were gone, though Goblins were still working hard on whatever they had. The good thing about the meeting was that it meant he no longer had to go to Kragrakk or anyone else with insights into the Magical World, as he had basically learned in a day what Pureblood heirs learned over Eleven years, though admittedly without as much detail.

He headed to his room, where he opened his charms textbook and read until he finally passed out, Hedwig lying at his headboard and Erebus once more at the foot of his bead, taking the book from his master's hands and setting it on a nearby table, before falling asleep himself.

The day had taken a large toll on Harry, but he looked forward to the train in a few days, meeting Hagrid and going over the Half-Giant's new wand which had he had written about excitedly, Meeting up with Daphne, Hermione, Trip and Elizabeth. Studying and flying once more on the Nimbus he had bought the other day, and having an overall relaxed year.

Of course, nothing would turn out like that, but he had hope.

**Shoutout to: GM, AST7, RJ41, A and NP, anyone else who's been nice, and was constructive with their criticism.. Also, wanted to mention Hypocrite KR6911, his review was hilarious, and was clearly very superficial with his reading. Syk, I'm not gonna abbreviate since it's 3 letters, shut your trap, it's a common name used in fandom instead of Harry, it was not helpful, go be rude elsewhere. Thanks!**

**R&R Plz!**


	11. Person of Interest

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

Harry sat at the dining table, and gulped. He had been invited to The Greengrass's home to meet them for the first time, and he was scared. Dinner was being worked into, and mid-way, the adults had attempted to strike a conversation with him. He says they attempted, because he was frightened out of his boots.

When he looked one in the eye, he shivered a bit, and tried to just focus on his food. Daphne was sat to one side, politely consuming her steak, while Astoria was sitting in a chair, chatting amiably and eating her own steak.

The girl would be going to Hogwarts this year, and was expected to go to Slytherin, since all Harry had experienced was her trying to get him and Daphne to kiss, despite the fact they hadn't started physical affection in pretty much any way. Occasionally Daphne would hold his hand, and he was fine with it, but he refused to hug her, unless caught in excitement. He just stared at his food, as Mrs. Greengrass asked him a question.

"So, Harry, How are your grades at school going? Daphne received her letter a week ago, she placed 12th in her year. We're quite proud." Harry nodded. He had contacted the Greengrass's via Owl, but he had mostly spoken to Daphne, as he was simply too nervous to than to the adults. Something about them brought up a nervousness he didn't know existed.

To be fair, he was 12! Sure, he's mature, powerful, skillful and humble for his age, but it's for his age! He was perfectly aware that he could speak quite comfortably to people his own age, though he had barely any experience in that regard.

'So', he mused, 'I suppose I really don't know realistically. I've only spoken to someone new when I'm angry or happy. I don't really know how I'd react in a regular situation.' Years and years of mental torture by the Dursley adults wasn't about to go away over night, or even weeks. He knew he had some fear of intimacy, but he was unsure how deep it reached. Plus, he is a kid! Prepubescent for a boy. In no way was he better than these practiced deceivers.

"I placed first. Best in Charms, DADA, Potions, and Flying. Second in Astronomy and History of Magic. Third in Herbology and Transfiguration." He was simple and concise as Kragrakk had taught him the other day, disliking the conversation.

"Well done, Mr. Potter! It seems my Daughter has a good future husband. So, what career are you interested in?" Mr. Greengrass stared down at him, as Harry visibly began to shake. Something about them frightened him… he supposed it was the fact that they were his future in-laws, and that he had been very disillusioned to Dumbledore. Well, the man did frighten him, but since most of his power was taken away with the retrieval of the Elder Wand, it took quite a bit of his intimidating image away.

"I-I Haven't yet decided, sir, I've found interest in Wand-Crafting, Magizoology, especially in birds, and as an Auror." He practically burned a hole through the table with his burning cheeks. Why was he doing this!? He could look Dumbledore in the eye, but with these people… what was happening!?

"Good, good. All excellent choices, but have you ever considered business?" The man was almost believable, but Harry has been personally trained by Kragrakk, one of the most renowned Goblins, and without that he certainly would have fallen for the act. But he was not a fool.

"No, sir, I have no interest nor intent in pursuing a career in business. I trust my Account Manager, and would hate to disrespect him by being less reliant." He felt a swell of power inside as he finally looked the man in the eye, but deflated at his glare. Daphne held out a hand, concerned, but her childhood had taught her to never go against her father. Mrs. Greengrass smiled deviously.

"Why be reliant on anyone? Doesn't that make you weak?" Her shit-eating grin combined with her prominent teeth actually freaked him out now, and he actually began to eat a little quicker to end the meal.

"I don't believe so, Madam. I see it as trusting your friends, as they are just as reliant on your success as you are, if not more." He gave her a sharp glare as he finished his food, slight disgust at the steak.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be going. Schools only in a couple days." As he stood, Mr. Greengrass stood as well, moving over to lead him to the Floo. He didn't notice Mrs. Greengrass following, though Daphne was staying at the Leaky Cauldron in another room.

Suddenly, he was pulled aside into the Fathers study, and as he looked up, he gulped. Mr. Greengrass was an intimidating man, which had earned him a powerful spot on the Wizengamot as an elected member, and had strong support in the Grey. While it was currently ruled by Lord Crouch, Mr. Greengrass was expected to surpass him.

"Listen to me, and listen well, Mr. Potter. My Daughters are everything to me, and if you EVER, hurt Daphne, I will break every bone in your body, one by one. She is a precious gift, and does not deserve any heartbreak. I hated my Parents for signing that contract, and I hope that I won't have to hate you. Don't touch her, in fact, until she is ready. If she comes home with even the tiniest of splinters, I'll flay you." He glared down at Harry, as he gulped. Unlike Dumbledore, he believed these threats.

He was shooed out of the office, directed towards the floo room and he crept quietly, head held down. At this point, he was questioning whether it was worth it. He'd lived most of his life without magic, surely, he'd make it the rest of his life too. But he couldn't do that to Daphne, she was one of his best friends, and Harry was nothing if not Loyal.

The boy had finally reached the floo room, where Daphne and Mrs. Greengrass were waiting. Daphne frowned at his slightly frightened face, as she had never seen him scared until now. But as she had been taught throughout her life, she ignored it, since it was clearly her Father had done it, and she was never to question her parents.

Just before he stepped into the floo, Mrs. Greengrass called. He turned, and was pulled into a hug, which surprised him. The only hugs he'd received were from Hermione, and very, very rarely, Daphne.

"If you EVER, hurt my Daughter, I'll show you why I was known as the Ice Lady at Hogwarts." She whispered this as her wand pressed against his back, where Daphne couldn't see, and he felt a bit of freezing cold against his spine. Whether for a spell or fright, he honestly wasn't sure. Why was he so scared of these people!? What was happening to him!?

Mrs. Greengrass pulled away, and he stepped into the fireplace, ignoring Daphne's questioning glance as he called out Diagon Alley!

When he arrived, he headed silently to his room, when he heard footsteps coming towards him. He ignored them, until he felt Daphne's warm hand reach into his. He tended, eyes widened as he recalled Mr. Greengrass's threat. He quickly removed it, and ran to his room, locking the door and ignoring her calls.

Panting lightly, he headed to his bed and softly cried into it. He had hoped the Elder Greengrass would be different, but they clearly did not care that he'd been forced into this just as much as her. In the end, he's only 12, and in no way ready for things like that.

Hedwig cooed softly as she hopped down, rubbing against his cheek as Erebus came over, whimpering against his chest as the dog encouraged his presence on the boy. For just a second, he smiled, as his two pets comforted the boy.

He fell asleep quite peacefully.

A tall presence in the room looked upon the scene with a smile, albeit a sad one. He was nearly there in finding a cure for his curse, but he was at a point in which he was stumped. But right now, all that mattered was the child. Casting a silent charm, he watched as the young man smiled in his sleep, finding a wonderful dream.

He couldn't let his evil personality win. He just couldn't. Who knew what it would do to the boy, and now, more than ever, he couldn't let him down. The old warmth from his wand had disappeared, and he congratulated him on succeeding. He'd need it.

Waving goodbye to the Dog and Phoenix, the Man left to continue his research.

Harry woke up, dreading the day. He'd managed to avoid Daphne the previous two days, but now they were getting on the Express, and he had no doubt that she would confront him. So he packed his bags, steadied himself, and unlocked his door.

Walking out, he didn't see anyone, but did catch a faint whiff of Daphne's perfume, a raspberry and strawberry combination. He stalked across the creaky floor, paint-faded brown walls cornering him.

Once Harry got down the rickety stairs, he saw Daphne waiting by the floo for him. Taking a deep breath, he walked over, making sure he could make a quick getaway.

The Ravenclaw however, had little to fear, as Daphne did not confront him and instead smiled shyly. He grinned nervously back, as he grabbed a small handful of floo powder and threw it in. Calling out the Stations name, he stepped out into the foot traffic that filled the bright platform, red train glowing brightly in the morning sun.

Suddenly he felt Daphne attempt to grab for his hand, and he shook it off, speeding towards the train. It was 9:00, and he wanted to have a secure compartment. The girl tried once more for his hand, frowning when she failed. What had happened to Harry? Why was he doing this?

Once he jumped onto the Black Locomotor, he searched for either one of his friends, or an empty compartment. Neither seemed likely so far, as many people had arrived early for a compartment, but all his friends tended to be late. The Relentless Ravenclaw refuses to give up, however, and finally stumbled upon Neville, in a compartment with Ronald. He grimaced, but accepted the inevitable, stepping in beside his shy friend.

"Hey, Harry! How was your summer?" The redhead asked, though Harry noticed it lacked the typical excitement the boy had when talking to someone.

"It was pretty good, thank you. I read a few interesting books, since it's about all I'm able. And yourself?" Ronald looked confused at his statement, but ignored the obvious, instead choosing to go on about the Chudley Cannons, but Harry noticed still the boy was acting strangely, and it annoyed him. While far from the most pleasant company, and not someone Harry would ever choose to associate with, he still always seemed carefree and loud. This Ronald was… quiet. At least, quiet for him.

The door opened to reveal Hermione, and she stepped in, allowing a small blonde girl to come inside as well, who decided to sit on Harry's lap, and cause utter confusion. Hermione seemed slightly angry, Ronald was confused, Neville amused, and Harry was just stunned.

"Uh, little girl, do you mind getting off my lap? I don't really know you, you see, and it seems a bit odd." He was nervous, not wanting her to cry, and was just taken aback by her response.

"I'm Luna Lovegood, a lot of people call me odd. You're Hadrian Poterimus, a very powerful wizard. There, were introduced. Now, I'm comfortable, and none of you can stop me." She went right into a magazine she was holding, and Harry, completely puzzled, just went with it. I mean, what else could he do!? Also, supposedly the Lovegood family had an alliance with the Potters dating back centuries. Not as old as the Longbottom's, but it still held true.

The next friend to arrive was Trip and Elizabeth, though they only stayed there for a moment, as they went to catch up with a couple other friends. They did promise to come back, since Harry and Neville were their best friends, not that they'd tell anyone else that. The two were grinning happily, and Harry looked at their enclosed hands with jealousy. But Mr. Greengrass has been clear, and he didn't want to risk anything.

Daphne finally arrived with Astoria in tow, frowning at Luna in his lap, but choosing to ignore it. She sat next to him, attempting to get closer, but he scooted away, dropping Luna between them. He looked up, and began conversing with his other friends, missing Daphne's upset face as she almost seemed ready to cry. Hermione wasn't so oblivious, and patted her knee, loudly announcing to the others they needed to go to the bathroom.

"So what's going on with you and Harry? You looked really sad." Hermione comforted the girl as they stood next to each other, a few years escaping Daphne's eyes.

"I don't know, he's ignored me ever since we went to my parents, and I don't know why! We were actually progressing, and now it just feels like we've gotten even worse than before! He won't even let me bloody hold his hand!" She cried out, stomping her foot.

"Well, I can't say I know what's going on, we've only known him for a year and aren't as close as he is with Neville or Trip, but I think you just need to give him time. I mean, he's got a marriage contract hanging over his head, he's probably just scared about that." Daphne snuffed a couple times before nodding, and they stepped out, heading back towards the compartment.

When they entered, everyone was laughing and joking, and they all spent the rest of the ride happily.

Harry sat at the Ravenclaw table, watching as students were sorted. They looked tiny now, and he smiled. While he did not recognize many, he spotted Astoria and Luna in the mix, both talking rapidly. Ginevra Weasley was also amongst the group, and he grimaced at the thought of having to spend time with the female weasley just so he could spend time with either girl.

"Greengrass, Astoria!" Mcgonagall's stern voice called, and the girl sprinted up in excitement, pulling the hat over her head. It seemed to take some time, and Harry wondered if they were debating over something.

"Slytherin!" It called, and she looked over sadly at him and her sister, as she slumped, dragging her feet along to the green table who cheered. Harry stared, as they had never cheered before, until he noticed some of the older students looking at her with greed in their eyes. He determined that he'd protect her no matter what, would scour the library to get something to make sure she stayed safe, for Daphne, for Himself, and most importantly, for her.

"Lovegood, Luna!" As her name was called, the odd girl with radish earrings skipped over, and slipped the old cloth over her face, as it drowned her entire head. This one seemed to take quite a bit of time debating, and he even noticed her face scrunched up in frustration from the small creases in the hat. Thank you, Hawk vision!

"Ravenclaw!" The hat called wearily, clearly tired from arguing with the girl. She smiled so brightly it practically blinded him as she dropped right next to the boy, staring at her plate as if willing food to appear.

"Weasley, Ginevra!" While there were quite a few students, he hardly paid attention, instead choosing to watch the three notable girls. The redhead was quite nervous as she went up to the stool, waiting for Mcgonngall to give it to her. Once she put it on, after some time, it finally called for Gryffindor. Curious why it wasn't immediate, he used passive Legilimency and discovered it had wanted to put her in Hufflepuff, but the girl didn't want to be seperated from her brothers, nor have to deal with the house's reputation for being lazy, which efound ironic.

Finally, Dumbledore stood, and began his speech:

"Welcome, Students, to another year at Hogwarts! The world-renowned school for Witchcraft and Wizardry! This past year has seen a great many changes to the world, and I feel it best to explain!" He breathed in, and many of the young minds seemed to lock in on his presence, as Harry merely looked confused. What in blazes was happening? What had he missed, and did Dumbledore send him there for this reason?

"The Muggles have begun a war, between two superpowers, and it is causing chaos in the ministry. 5 Seasts have been activated, and another has gained a new heir. In the frenzy is the escape of Mass Murderer Sirius Black, a dangerous criminal. We are doing all we can to catch him, but for now it is recommended all Third years and up stay inside the Castle during Hogsmeade. We cannot prevent you from going, but it is discouraged." There were many yells for answers, and quite a few people looked angry, but Dumbledore just looked down at them for silence.

"While I cannot give more information at this time, I encourage you to do your own research. These events have the potential to shake the very foundation of this world, and the future you are left. Please, learn what you can." Harry sat there, agape. What in- Well, what in Magic's name was happening!? So much…

He knew why the seats were, though he wondered why the man didn't name them. Did he not want people to know that Hogwarts is at risk for closing? Or at least, it would be if he wanted it to, but there was no real benefit. The Poterimus family was likely so no attention was brought upon him, and he silently thanked the man for his thought. It would not do for the school to learn he was a Lord.

The meal was eaten with absolute ruckus going on, and students questioned their Pureblood and Half-blood neighbors to no answer, as no one in the school seemed to have known what had happened. Even Draco Malfoy looked confused. Harry decided to reveal something to the boy. At the very least, he'd learn why pureblood supremacy was pointless, and stupid.

He talked with his friends, and decided to call for Hedwig, preferably with the newspapers that had been sent throughout the summer. The War would have to wait until he could get proper information on it, but at the very least he could learn more about Sirius Black and what people thought about his seats being reactivated.

Most people seemed to believe it was some far away descendant of them, though nobody seemed to know which ones they were, and everyone seemed split on whether he had claimed the Lordships as 'Harry Potter', or a mysterious descendant had decided to come out of the blue. Honestly, what foolishness. Muggle newspapers primarily seemed set on the War, though one mentioned an out of place Blue Box, but Harry dismissed it.

Trip questioned him on the mysterious Seats, but Harry just waved his fingers at him, showing off a grey ring and smirking. The boy looked confused, but Elizabeth seemed to understand, nodding and turning back to her own paper.

What he found on Sirius Black through the papers was very contradictory, at least to him. Others didn't see the fault. The man was his Godfather, so clearly very close to his father, judging by their age, presumably school Potter was supposed to be an Auror of renowned skill, so if there was a traitor in his midst, wouldn't he have suspected the man? Unless they were calling him dumb…

Also, he was only the secondary heir to the Black family, which suggested that Sirius was still the primary, which was easily found in the Ministry, or a visit to Gringotts. You couldn't be head of the family if you were in Prison, so then Sirius was either falsely accused, or never convicted. Did people just bury their head in the sand at the time? He had so many questions, what was happening to the government?

Eventually, he let the matter rest, and went to his food. Erebus and Hedwig were waiting up in his room, which he had debated with Dumbledore last June. Despite the fact that they were contracted to marry, they didn't have to take the betrothal suite, and Dumbledore felt he would do better in the Tower. Initially, Harry had been against the idea, but the Old Man had brought up several good points, like how he'd be separate from those his year in his house, and would not have access to the Ravenclaw library as often as he'd like.

In the end, he'd given in, and decided to sleep in the tower, which while it didn't have much room, it'd all be his. Plus, Gracie could fly up and they could speak better from the window, which he couldn't accomplish with the suite. So he followed the rest of his house, Trip and Elizabeth having decided to do the same until they were at least older, and up the various steps he finally arrived at the Tallest Tower. He had gotten his own room, which he quickly made his own, and played with his pets.

Gracie flew up to speak, and Harry smiled at the large Dragon, who had grown perhaps twice her size over the summer. He'd missed her, and she him, as he jumped out and they flew together, he even got to watch her tear into a couple of Acromantula, which had learned to fear the Dragon as much as they feared the King of Serpents. Speaking of which, he wanted a Basilisk someday, they were fascinating. Unfortunately, they needed murder to hatch through the ritual, and supposedly any natural born had been exterminated a long time ago.

He transformed on Gracie's back as she swooped high, laughing loudly as he held onto her neck, surprisingly, convincingly soft scales softened his body, though he knew even the most dangerous spell couldn't kill her. There was a reason Dragons were so feared, and that's because not even the Killing Curse could penetrate their hide in one hit. Though, supposedly, several powerful ones could take it out of a fight. Whether it'd die, is another question.

Standing high, Harry fought through the rain and clouds of the Fall Evening, rising above them. The Dark sky allowed him to breathe in and out, casting his most powerful spell:

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Out of his wand leaped a bright light, as Dragon, Phoenix, and Stag ran across the sky and he laughed in glee, holding the spell for two minutes, before releasing it and collapsing on his Dragon's back, exhausted from magical expenditure. He had not built up a proper magical stamina, and to be battle-ready would take several years.

Gracie finally flew by his window as he climbed in, crawling to his bed. SIghing contentedly, he drifted off to sleep, dreaming of the next day and what it would hold. Hedwig slept on his headboard, Erebus at his feet. The days had been long, the workload unbearable, but he finally left the physical world, hoping for a normal school year. Hope being the strong word.

Severus Snape was a busy man, and one who had no time for useless brats. Weasley had driven in on a car, for Magic's sake! A flying car! Then he grumbled and groaned when he lost his wand, and practically screamed when Snape was the one to find him. Of course the incompetent boy couldn't be expelled, and he just sighed as he drank some of Slughorn's Sludge, the Bourbun relaxing him.

The boy was back, and Dumbledore was getting even crazier than usual. Midnight calls, glasses askew and his normally bright, gaudy robes looking dirty and stained. Of course he knew the reason. He was his most trusted after all, and he wore that badge with pride. The problem was, the man was clearly fighting a losing battle, and Severus did not want to see what the old man could accomplish when evil. So he had brewed a poison, and given it to the man as a last-second scenario. Something to do when there was absolutely nothing more, all avenues crossed, all hope lost.

Potter was good in potions, and he just hoped the young man could make his mother proud. Looking into those eyes… he wouldn't let Lily down. He couldn't. So he opened his potions book, and got down to read about those that could cure obscure curses. Perhaps he'd be lucky. Perhaps not.

**R&R plz!**


	12. Experience

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI. I am pre-writing everything and have several months worth done, with one chapter every week. From now on it should be good, I've planned out the entire arc, Hopefully you enjoy it.**

Potions was interesting. Rather than give them the start-of-year speech, Severus had simply given the directions on the board and gone to his book. Unfortunately his hand covered the title, so Harry couldn't say what he was reading. Sitting with his partner, Blaise Zabini, they began working. Having sent the other boy to gather the ingredients, he picked up the book he had labelled with the advice Severus had given him.

They were working on a Dreamless Sleep potion, and if done well enough, the top students could take the workable ones for themselves, as a reward. Many didn't realise the opportunity given to them, which he wasn't surprised by. Most were not suffering under the nightmares he had, of his visions from last year coming true. The worst part was he couldn't remember them, which meant he had to wake up drenched in sweat, but never really know why. Hell, it took him all summer to realise they were nightmares.

So he started chopping up the porcupine quills, since they needed to be added in two different sections of time, and the normal length would stick out of the abnormally small cauldron, thus not mixing well. Zabini was watching him, occasionally asking why he was doing different things. The boy was a friend of Daphne, which meant Harry trusted him, though could not quite call him a friend yet. After all, people are fickle, and he had no idea if this one was especially cunning, as a Slytherin, or was simply more ambitious than most.

Blaise stood quite tall, almost as much as he and Ronald, with high cheekbones similar to his own that spoke of his aristocratic genealogy, with his bronze italian skin dark in the deep dungeon, though it shines brilliantly in the courtyard. His hands were delicate, and he could compare their grace to Trip's, though much more well-worn, supposedly from caring for his own Beast of Gevaudan, whom he had supposedly named Gevi. His family was said to breed and sell them, though not quite as successful as Crups, they had garnered enough wealth to be considered one of the High-Class families of Italy.

The boy was trained as a dancer, and it showed itself as every move was done with grace that not even Tracy Davis, his typical dance partner, demonstrated. Every time it almost appeared as if he was constantly calculating, or so it seemed to Harry. The others didn't see it, but he still felt suspicion. There was a reason he had gone to Hogwrats rather than Italy's school, Stati Magia, which was world-renowned, almost beating Hogwarts, but in the end, the Castle was smaller and much more prestigious, most only getting in via family connections, which explained why some, like Ronald Wealey whos strategic mind did not feed into his magical abilities, was attending.

Eventually he finished his potion, handing the, to him, tiny cauldron over to Severus, who inspected it before giving it an O and going back to his book, as the two boys waited for everybody else to finish and see who'd get the supply.

'So, Potter-'

'Harry, Please'

'So, Harry…' Blaise seemed to have a weird taste in his mouth at speaking his first name. 'Do you expect we'll get the potions?'

He was pensive for a moment. 'I don't know. I do not enjoy raising expectations in case i'm disappointed, and it feels all the sweeter if I do succeed.'

They fell into a comfortable silence, as the boy next to him thought over his reply. Eventually, he nodded, as Harry pulled out a chess set, offering him the opportunity to play. When Blaise agreed, and pulled out his own, they began playing. He had been practicing quite a bit, asking for a bit of tutoring from Ronald. While he had appeared somewhat star-struck at being able to teach the boy-who-lived something, he'd quickly agreed and they began. Slowly, his abilities had seen improvement, and while he was nowhere near good enough to beat Ronald, there was a chance he could defeat Zabini.

After suffering a debilitating loss to him, Harry decided not to get so cocky again. But when he'd readied himself to set the pieces again, Severus stood, announcing them as the winner, floating over some bottles, filling and stoppering six potions. He and Blaise agreed to split the lot, walking out as some threw them dirty glares, Hermione being the angriest. But after a few breathing exercises, she saw how they had earned the victory, packed up her bag and left. Next up was DADA with the Poof.

Harry Potter was bored. No, that was an understatement. He was slowly losing brain cells from sitting in a class listening to some half-baked moron list off all the incredible things he'd done. Honestly, Hagrid's chimney was smoking, and he wanted some tea! While the rock cakes were of questionable edibility, his tea was delicious. But right now he had to listen to tall, male, and egotistical Goldiharts go on about how he'd defeated the Yeti in his book Year with the Yeti.

Worst part? Everybody was eating it up. He was stuck with the Hufflepuffs, and while most of them had beyond figured out how much of a fraud the man was (More than Trelawney, according to some Third Years) there were still the select few dunderheads who listened as if his word was King Magic. The Lady of Rationality could be so much more helpful! But it seemed she had skipped this group.

'And that class is how I subdued a Fully-Grown Mountain Troll with my bare hands!' Now he began handing out quizzes, and was disappointed when they landed in front of him. You'd think that if the man would be able to come up with some crazy made up way to defeat monsters, then he'd be able to come up with some sort of relevant DADA quiz! But nope, they were all questions about him.

While he knew the answers and did not wish to fail, he at the very least had to mess with the man a bit! So when it came time to hand in the quizzes, he made sure he was last so the man would read it out loud.

'Well done, each and every one of you! While some were not quite as good as the rest, this does appear to be in order! Though I must say my favorite colour is lilac, as it states in Year with the Yeti! Not… mhm…' The man appeared to be reading his answers, and he almost giggled. It was far from out loud laugh worthy but it was worth at least a chuckle. 'Yes, Magenta, right family, wrong shade. And I defeated the Banshee in 1987, not 1789, as according to Break with a Banshee, First book, immediate best-seller! Why if I had, I'd be over 200 years old, though I'd certainly have looked amazing if I were!'

At this point, the man prattled on and Harry ignored him, intent on simply taking a nap as he hadn't gotten much sleep. Unfortunately, Lockhart had other plans.

Now, when the Ugly Faeries were released, Harry was sure nothing had happened. Just the natural girly scream one would expect from a coddled man-child, until he felt something grab at his ears. As you would imagine, he immediately sought out what was causing this odd sensation, as he realised the Cornish Pixies were attempting to haul him out of his chair. Tired of this distraction, he batted them away, giving a hard glare as he laid his head back down. But to her despair, it seemed Liz was not so lucky.

'Let me down you ugly little wankers! Get away from me you disgusting, blue-faced ugly mashed up piles of turd! I will destroy you and there won't be any pieces for you friends to clean up!' Apparently, they had managed to haul her up and hang her on the chandelier by her cloak. Like they had done with Neville Longbottom the previous class, though why the Golden-haired Gremlin chose to repeat the lesson was anybody's guess.

Finally, the bell sounded and he stood up, Trip, Liz and Daphne following. He went down to the Great Hall where Afternoon Tea was being served, and he wanted to get himself a cuppa. Unfortunately, as Fate just seems to hate him ever so much, Ronald Weasley and Draco Malfoy caught up with him. All they did nowadays was fight, seeing as how Ronald had grown some sort of Hero-Worship that overplayed his zealous minority-complex.

After he had given Draco a book on Alliances of old that explained how House Poterimus did not discriminate on the French Peasants that the Malfoy's once were, even assisting them in rising in status, the boy had learned respect, though it also meant he tried to be 'Friendly', and Harry was curious how such a friendship would play out. After all, supposedly Malfoy was solely interested in honouring his family.

'Hello, Draco, Ronald, how are you doing today?' He was asking admittedly mostly because it was required of him, but there was some curiosity. They seemed to be getting better. Hell, from what he had heard Ronald had invited Draco to a Muggle Cinema, and Harry was a bit curious what was going on there.

'Oh, I'm great Harry, how are you? Me and Draco are going to watch Star Wars this summer, I heard it from some Muggleborn and Mum said we could, do you want to come? I heard it was great and figured why not invite the stuffy pureblood.' The Weasley sped through his so fast Harry's head was practically spinning, until he spotted Colin Creevey and got a bit nervous.

'Draco and I, have some Decorum, Weasel, This is the Potter Heir, Harry Potter! Or can you not go three seconds without showing off in front of him?' As Draco slapped Ronalds shoulder, they soon began a tussel, and failed to notice Harry running away from the small boy with a camera as Trip, Liz, and Daphne simply walked into the Great Hall to eat.

Excitement bubbled up in him, as Quidditch tryouts were today, and his friends had encouraged him to go. Trip had apparently been on the verge of stunning him, Hermione was incredibly supportive, Draconus and Ronald had both wanted to see him fly on the Nimbus 2000 he had bought last year, Daphne had simply encouraged him to attempt his dream, and share something with his father.

Standing on the pitch, it had been a good five minute walk from the Castle to the grounds, thick grass covered with rain made it a taxing journey, and he hoped to alleviate some stress by flying. Next to him was Ravenclaw's other Seeker hopeful, seeing as the last one had graduated the previous year. Cho Chang, he thought her name was.

While only a third year, she had very much begun blossoming, likely to be one of the prettiest girls in school within a year or two, with black hair, asian ancestry that stood out in the english school, and somewhat short. Already, he was taller, and Hermione was on par, but it was clear the bushy-haired muggleborn would beat her. There wasn't a single visible blemish, not the tiniest scar that he could see, and he was almost entranced. But he also knew it would be a distraction, so he focused back on the field, readying himself.

The current team consisted of Roger Davies as chaser and alternate captain, Duncan Inglebee as beater, Jeremy Stretton and Randolph Burrow as supporting chasers, Grant Page as keeper and captain, thereby leaving two spots to fill. Jeremy Stretton and Terry Boot were the ones trying out for beater, each one was a bit pale and sweaty. Boot had mousy brown hair and was of average height, not one to stand out in a crowd as he wasn't particularly handsome or ugly, with a Comet 260. Stretton on the other hand, definitely stood out, though not in a good way. He was infamous for his meltdown in his first year when he wanted to attempt to become an animagus but McGonagall refused to teach him, since it was a particularly dangerous practice.

There had been a few others to attempt a spot on the team, but only they were left, all vying for each spot. Harry and Boot were the only ones in second year despite the others wanting on, because they had the most courage. Trip hadn't any interest, Goldstein was scared, Corner didn't have any hope to get on, Patil and Turpin were gossips and Li was too focused on her studies to try. So far, it was in his favor as Chang was too focused on trying to distract him rather than catch the snitch, which admittedly might have worked if he didn't know Occlumency and focus.

Finally Page stepped out of the locker rooms, a large building at the far end of the field that was run down, the Broom cupboard beside it. The stands were hovering high and were each decorated with their house colours, whose banners reached so far he couldn't tell whether it was actually connected to the ground. Their patterned diamonds shifted colours with the house either practicing or battling, which was a nice bit of wandwork. Flitwick, Oliver Wood, Colin Creepey, and all his friends, along with the friends of those present, were all watching him and the rest of them in their tryouts.

Harry was now incredibly happy he hadn't gotten into Gryffindor, since he'd seen the tryouts at six and practices at four, and felt pity for the Twins. Hopefully it'll get better for them when Wood leaves. But putting his focus back on the current captain, who was going on his speal of how Ravenclaw needed to be the best and such, his eyes were drawn to Daphne who was reading a book, with a Potter for Seeker badge pinned on her robe. Smiling, he focused back on Page.

'Ravenclaw deserves to win the cup, we've been trying for ages, and it's about time we got it. Gufflepuff has been dominating for the last three years because of Diggory, so I'm going to be especially hard on you seekers, since this is incredibly important. I trust you'll try your hardest, and I hope you make it.' The boy stepped back, ordering them to get in formation.

Harry stood straight, broom in hand, wand in sleeve as Page dragged over the box of balls, and launched the snitch into the air. Counting to three, he breathed in and out, then jumped on and began flying, catching up to Chang. As he lifted his dragonhide gloves, gifted to him by Draco, he dodged out of the way of a Bludger, glaring at the beaters who shrugged.

He began flying around, twirling loop-de-loops he had practiced last year, feeling much smoother on the new broom. Suddenly, the ball came right back, aiming for his head. Dodging it once more, he frowned, flying farther down. Chang was diving, but he couldn't see the tell-tale flash of gold that heralded the little golden ball. Ignoring her, he flew back up, looking out for the snitch, but the bludger had apparently decided he was an opportune target once more, chasing after him.

Speeding away, he landed on the ground, running away and throwing spells at the metal ball, dodgin it's attacks. Jumping back on the broom since it was easier to maneuver, he casted curses, before spotting his target. Leaning down, he increased his speed as the bludger was gaining on him. Arm outstretched, he snagged it, but not before his animate opponent slammed down, breaking his arm. Crying out in pain, he threw out his left hand, casting a wave of destructive force that destroyed the bludger and the tree tops several miles away, though thankfully nobody spotted that.

Everyone congratulated him, though there was some initial worry for the bludger. Davies congratulated him on his spot, and rushed him to the Hospital Wing, though Harry did spot Chang looking at him in jealousy. Eventually, they were just at the Castle when, to Harry's great annoyance, Egohart appeared, with a large smile on his face.

'Hello there, Harry!' Then he looked down and saw his arm. 'Oh no well, don't worry! No need to bother Pomfrey at this hour, I can easily cure it, I know the perfect spell!' Harry began panicking, attempting to leave. Lockhart had slipped up his sleeves, wand at the ready as he pointed it at his broken arm. Davies was trying to escape as well, but they couldn't get around the man.

With a twirl of his wand, and a call out of some strange charm, he casted it, as Harry looked down at his arm. He couldn't feel it, just floating there like a glove. With a cry of rage, he pointed his own wand at the Defense Professor and stunned the man, who slammed into the wall, unconscious, while the Ravenclaw captain dragged him into the nearby wing, and in front of Pomfrey.

'Just what happened here, Mr Potter!?' The Matron called to her temporary Ward, who was sitting on one of the beds, trying to feel something from his arm.

'_Professor_' He spat out. 'Lockhart decided that he knew better than I, and cast a spell attempting to mend my bones from a rogue bludger. Unfortunately, he's completely incompetent and instead vanished every single one in my arm. You can regrow them, can't you?' He looked up at her with begging eyes.

'*Sigh* I can, though I warn you, it would have been far easier to simply mend them. We'll need Skele-Gro for this, and I must tell you the process will be very uncomfortable, so I'm going to give you a dreamless sleep potion as well, that should keep you ignorant of the pain for some time.' She forced him to swallow the disgusting concoction, then placed the other one by his bed so he could take it whenever he needed.

Immediately he cried out in pain as his arm stung, and he could feel every movement as it began repairing itself cell by cell. Passing out, he knew nothing more but darkness.

When Harry awoke, he knew something was wrong when a warm liquid dripped down his face. It was even more clear when a House Elf was standing on him, wiping his forehead with a rag. Feigning sleep, ignoring the pain in his arm, he listened to him mutter. Clearly the being had been attempting to help him for some time, and decided they needed a chance to explain themselves.

'Mr Harry Potter must not be hurt, Dobby didn't mean to do this. Oh, what would Mother Mindy say, if she could see Dobby now. Reprimand him, she would. Oh, Dobby's messed up now. But Dobby didn't know the metal ball would do that, only injure Mr Harry Potter. Not hurt him, injure!' At this point, the Ravenclaw had enough and opened his eyes.

'What do you mean, only injure!? Are you Dobby!?' The Elf attempted to disappear, but he grabbed onto their leg, preventing them from disappearing until his questions were answered.

'Hello, Mr Harry Potter Sir. I'm so sorry, Dobby didn't mean to hurt you!' The Elf wailed out, all whilst holding injured hands with eerily long fingers to his face.

'Look, why don't you sit down, and we can talk about this properly. It's a bit awkward with you standing on my chest.' Now Dobby was properly wailing, crying out about how great he was. 'Look, Sit down on the chair, and we can talk about why you tried to kill me.'

'Dobby didn't want to kill Sir Harry Potter, Dobby wanted only to injure. Dobby thought that if Sir Harry Potter was injured, he'd leave Hogwarts!' The House Elf was sitting on one of the nearby hairs, wiping away his tears. Harry took a good look now at the being.

Dobby was about two feet in height, with the long droopy ears and big eyes that every Elf had, though with a dirty pillowcase and poorly bandaged palms, it was clear he was mistreated. His green orbs looked on the verge of tearing up again, as Harry attempted to console the little elf. There were some scars present on his arms and legs, which were far too skinny, and his skin had a greenish tint to it rather than the pale grey that House Elves normally got.

'Look, I understand you didn't want to kill me, but I can't leave Hogwarts. There is something going on in the Castle and I can't leave my friends here alone. Plus, if I do leave, I'll be stuck with the Dursleys, and they are far more unpleasant than any monster here, I promise. Who's your Master, perhaps I can talk to them?' Instead of answering, Dobby grabbed his lamp and began banging his head against it.

'Dobby, stop! Look, I get that you can't tell me, but please, just give me a chance. I promise, if it gets too dangerous, I'll leave, ok?' This allowed the Elf a small smile, stopped, then popping away.

Honestly, could his life get any weirder?

The next day, he was released from the evil witches clutches, to meet up with his friends. They caught him up, and apparently Stretton managed to land the spot on the team, having bragged about it for days. Also, nobody had seen Lockhart yet, most were hoping he'd run away so they didn't have to attend his classes. Harry doubted it. His Ego was far too big to have been ruined with a simple stunner, even if it was from a twelve year old. Transfiguration was next, and he hoped McGonagall wouldn't give him anything too difficult. His head was still throbbing from the headache he'd gotten from the skele-gro.

Up the stairs he went, over the trick step and to the side of the slippery rug. It was getting a bit too difficult to remember all the tricks, so he had gotten Draco to walk with him, as they shared the class with the Gryffindors and it took a bit too much brain power to process his surroundings. Honestly, the blonde boy was a great help, he didn't want to accidentally run into Seamus Finnegan or Dean Thomas, who supposedly hated him for not getting into Gryffindor. The logic that went between their ears was truly incredible, and he was certain scientists would find it fascinating to delve into their minds. That is, if there was a mind to delve into.

Entering her classroom, the stern looking professor held a small amount of pity as she hovered a seat for him to use. Sending a grateful smile, he watched as she practiced a new spell, one that would transform a goblet into a mouse. They'd attempted the opposite last year, but inanimate to living objects was significantly harder, because of all the inner workings you needed to imagine to get it right. While it could never be perfect, which was why such transfiguration was never permanent, as according to one of the Basic Laws, the more accomplished could make it last for days, Dumbledore was said to have been able to keep it up for months.

He flicked out his wand, and cast the spell, loosening his old on his Occlumency shields long enough to cast it. While a mouse appeared, it was in the same pattern of the goblet, also lacking a tail. Breathing deeply, he reversed the transformation, and tried again. This time, he got a furry goblet with whiskers, little teeth and a tail.

Grunting in frustration, he channeled his emotions into his wand, focusing clearly on the mouse. Not wanting to look, he quietly asked Trip his results. When he got an affirmative response, he opened his eyes to the sight of a perfect mouse running around, with black hair and their own green eyes much like his own. He even thought he saw an indentation around the orbs. Whooping with joy, he reversed it, and tried again. While not quite as good, it was still remarkably farther than everybody else.

Mcgonagall smiled at him, and he grinned back, gathering his things and waiting. Unfortunately his head ache decided to come back full force and he rocked forward, covering his head with his palms. Breathing deeply once more, he walked over and assisted Trip, since he was having a bit of trouble. Once he had accomplished the task, Harry walked over to Draco, instructing the boy to clear his mind and focus solely on the result he wanted. What came out was a blonde furred mouse, though there were slight hints of the goblets pattern.

Moving on, he walked over to Hermione, whose frustration was piling over into her spellwork. Carefully guiding her along, when it was finished he saw a mouse with brown fur remarkably similar to hers, and even slight curls, though the tail was a bit short. Going back to his chair as everyone else was getting close, he pondered the fact everybody's spellwork seemed to give something that looked eerily similar to themselves.

Opening the book, he read over the passage that detailed the reason. Apparently, since everybody's magic was infused with a bit of themselves, depending on how pure the result was, it'd look closer and closer to the caster. Those who didn't try very hard, ended with a very simple and average-looking mouse. Those that put in effort and a bit of extra magic, at least in the early stages, could create something that was remarkable like themselves, with the obvious differences that came with being different species.

Also, the better one got at visualising the result, the longer it stayed. So, theoretically, so long as you were willing to have an insignificant drain on your magic, and your imagination pictured all the working systems perfectly, you could create a permanent living being. Well, so long as it was connected to some source of magic. Otherwise, it would revert, as anything made out of magic, that was physical at least, could not live without some connection. They would learn more in Ancient Runes, if they chose to take it, as it was more than the simple runes class. The higher you get in the subject, the more and more it becomes like Theory of Magic.

Eventually, he was dismissed, and headed off to History of Magic. Nothing interesting ever seemed to occur, and as he'd already read up to third year in the subject, as that was the only way you could really pass the class, he had brought a pillow, one that had been personally transfigured by Albus Dumbledore for him during one of their lessons, making sure it was extra comfy. His friends had described it like sleeping on a cloud, and he was intent on finally trying it for himself.

As he was waiting outside, Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas decided to come by, loudly talking about how they'd gotten laid. Honestly, it was disturbing! Even if they were hyperbolizing and likely hadn't even managed a kiss from anyone yet, they were twelve. Guess that's what happens when you put a bunch of horny teens all together, and don't add enough hormone-reduction potion.

He sighed, and simply waited for class to begin.

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	13. Demise of a Nation

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

Harry was practically panting by the time Colin Creepey had given up, only to run into someone much worse.

'Ahh, Harry Potter! How are you, my friend! Why I must say it's a pleasure to run into you, I'm free and would love to give you some tips on how to handle your fame!' Lockhart began going on about how he was so much better than Harry, and that He should always listen to him, since he was a genius, after all! Supposedly the man was even planning a dueling club, that was the only thing in the entire conversation that caught the boy's interest, but each time he tried to shift it back Lockhart pushed it away, steadily rising his temper.

Thankfully, Erebus appeared and jumped on Lockhart, barking for Harry to get away as they both sprinted off to the Hall, managing to snag a seat next to his friends. As a reward, the large dog was given a slice of bacon. Ignoring the eyes on him and the dog, he opened the newspaper to be given information that stunned him.

The United States war with Russia, which had started as a secret plotted by the leaders of both countries, Wizards, had amassed total devastation. The Muggles are in serious danger of termination, though the wards of the various magical settlements had held up, and were spreading across the land. Already, there were several portions that were being woven into folk-tales, letting the muggles believe the ocean had spread and new lakes were formed. It seemed the Muggles may face extinction sooner than originally planned. At this rate, by his Sixth year, they'd be gone for good!

Great Britain had survived thus far, but there were whispers that they were planning to join a new alliance, and as the powerhouse with the fall of the colony and Russia, their only rivals being China and Japan, they held tremendous sway. Whether it would work is a wholly different story.

Harry summoned a nice cup of Paris tea, pouring it into his cup with a few spoonfuls of sugar, seeing that they had Potions next. At this point everybody had given up on the large Grim that was wagging his tail next to him, even Dumbledore seemed content to leave things, though Snape's frown on his sallow face suggested he might do something, if it weren't for the fact it was his normal demeanor.

The fall of muggle lands was an interesting concept, as it pushed them tighter together, and as they overflowed, the statute of secrecy was at greater risk. Wizards would have to be on extra alert, especially since Muggles had more to gain from their discovery than ever before. Just as he was about to turn to Trip for a conversation, Draco had begun:

'So, Harry, what do you think about the Muggles' fall? The older Slytherins are saying it will be the end of the Mudbloods, and honestly… I'm not sure if I agree anymore. Also, just because they've had a major hit in their land, doesn't mean they're powerless, does it?' Draco looked at him with naivety, and Harry felt a bit of pity for the boy. After all, imagine how frightening it must be for him, having been raised by his parents that Muggles are pests not even worth looking at, and now being faced with the fact they had weapons of mass-destruction so powerful they had destroyed countries and rendered them uninhabitable for several thousand years.

'I believe it was simply inevitable. The lack of magic in their systems made them naturally violent, and had them create weapons that could ruin worlds simply to show off. They are not better off for it, and are killing themselves. As for the Slytherins reaction… they aren't entirely wrong. It simply depends on your definition. There are 'Muggleborn' who are simply descended from long lines of squibs, such as my mother. This makes me a halfblood in many eyes. The end of Muggles will not be the end of Squibs, at least for a very long time. We still contain some Muggle traits, it's why we can rarely produce offspring that might breed with them, and why, very rarely, Wizards could be born of two 'Pureblood' Muggles.' He paused, looking at Draconus's reaction. He seemed to understand, though light bewilderment was present.

'Those traits bring our power down, but it is becoming more and more obvious we're breeding them out. For example, some thousand years ago, the list of powerful magic users was limited to Merlin, the Founders, Herpo the Foul, Percival, Marvolo, and James. Though, it seems best we ignore that their power level was far above our averages, that suggest they were either weak or overflowing. Even then, they were rarely born in the same generation. Slytherin was 20 years older than his compatriot Gryffindor, Hufflepuff was 10 years younger, and Ravenclaw was the same as Gryffindor. Percival, Marvolo and James were a fluke, likely by magic recognising the rising threat of Herpo.' Harry paused, as he noticed many heads were leaning in now. Even Dumbledore, in his seemingly permanent uncaring state, had leaned forward just enough to be visible.

'Nowadays, They've become more common. Dumbledore, Grindelwald, Charlus Potter, Arcturus Black, Tom Riddle, Voldemort, Sarah Chang, Sheev Sidious, Bartholomew Knightly, Mary Roman, even Myself and Trip. I could go on, though you will note most were of Pureblood houses, typically Minor, or halfblood. All Wizards and Witches who demonstrated themselves above average, standing out and being powerful. Yes, some more than the rest, but all exceptional. It doesn't take a genius to figure out we're becoming stronger. Even our population is rising at a rapid pace rather than the steady one expected after such a devastating war.' Harry looked around, seeing a satisfied and proud face on Dumbledore, even Snape had less of a scowl, and looked curious. If one could look that way while practically growling.

'No one really knows why. There have been many predictions, like how Magical births have become less devastating to the woman, or that Muggle traits are becoming more rare, the ancient history full of Squibs seemingly having caught up with us, and instead of repercussions, bringing benefits. That doesn't mean there are none. Every day Obliviators are being sent, you can see it in the paper there was even one yesterday, the statute is rising at risk of being obliterated, only a small push brings in the possibility of us being revealed. Do you see what I'm getting at here?' Harry looked around, and Draco nodded, but still had another query.

'Yeah, I see, but what about-' He was interrupted as a Muggleborn yelled across the table. Evidently, the girl had been eavesdropping, and couldn't hold it in.

'Who's Sheev Sidious!?' Suddenly there was a large shiver. The name that was feared by many had been uttered, and nobody wanted to speak about it. Even when one spoke Voldemort's name, there was someone who spoke up in a hiss to shut up, or they clamped a hand over the offenders mouth. This time, everybody simply curled in on themselves as they reflected over the history of the taboo subject.

'Sheev Sidious is one subject that is not nor should ever be uttered at a table for food. It's a forbidden, impolite, and cruel thing to bring up for those raised in the Wizarding world. If you want more information, you can go to the library to research. Though I doubt it has any knowledge on the subject, Flourish and Blotts would be better.' Harry glared at the, evidently, 5th year who looked down in shame. He returned to his tea, before standing up, intent on visiting his pets. No one seemed in the mood to talk anymore.

As he stepped out of the Hall, he failed to notice Dumbledore's eyes on him, sullenly watching his leave. Nobody needed to know Sheev Sidious's history. Especially not the boy. Heavens knows he's gotten a bad hand already.

Harry walked onto the grounds, breathing in the fresh, crisp autumn air. Halloween was nearing, and the leaves were turning a beautiful maple. The grass which seemed permanently mowed crunched underfoot with the slightest bits of frost from the cold Scottish weather as he stepped ever closer to his intended targets. The two were flying around, circling each other as one barked and the other roared.

Once he was close, they landed in front of him, one on his shoulder, the other in a cloud of dirt. It gave him the chance to really examine each, to study them. He had not done so in ages, and it was time for a checkup. If making sure they weren't sick meant he got to watch the majestic creatures up close, so be it.

He first looked at Hedwig, his White Phoenix, an incredibly rare creature that showed up once a millenia, whereas Phoenix appeared and bonded with one wizard every century. Normal Phoenix could also be found, no matter how hard, whether the mountaintops of China or the deep plains of Avinsula, the Magical Bird Island. White Phoenix, on the other hand, were only born once a millennia and that was when they sought their chosen Wizard. In other words, They were a creature that was occasionally extinct.

Hedwig had beautiful white feathers running along her body, those on her wings were especially delicate, though when you ran your hand across the grain they'd cut open your palm. Her headcreast was a dominant physical trait, standing out more than most of her other features in an icy blue compared to the snow white of her body. It's feathers were practically untouchable; all his other friends had cut their hand several times and seen Madam Pomfrey afterwards. Only he could touch it without trouble, Hedwig even seemed to purr after he did.

Her beak, legs and feet tipped with claw-ended toes were a much deeper blue, though shades of yellow were evident if one looked closely, evidence of her previous form as a barn owl. Sharp as a knife, they were able to rip through metal, or so he had heard. Even her chest was fallaciously dangerous, lined with plumes of solidified fire. It's heat also provided a radiance that allowed her to glow in the night, like a star to lead your way in the blackest of nights.

Finally, there were her Phoenix Feathers. Every Phoenix was born with two, rarely shedding one for a wand. They only regrew after a century, making them very sought after items. It was also why Fawkes was such a unique case, he had noticed in his many trips to the Headmasters office he lacked them. The man had just waved him off though, stating that the Phoenix was his own creature; what he chose to do was no real business of the wizened wizard. All Dumbledore did was provide company for the bird, which Harry could 100% agree with. Hedwig was less a pet and more a companion, and such truth applied to Gracie as well. He only commanded them because they so chose.

Moving on, Phoenix Feathers were the two distinct plumes present on their tails, you could almost always spot at least one in an image of the Mythical Creature, no matter where you looked. Hers were a mostly snowy white the same as her normal feathers, though the dissimilar circle present was the same icy blue of her head crest with a deep ring of her dark blue colouring surrounding it.

After the bird was settled, he moved on, to Gracie. He enjoyed calling her the Last Longhorn, even though it held some dark connotations. The Magnificent Dragon was of unrivaled Beauty, at least to him. Her face held sharp, angular points with a strong jawline lined with a singular queue of spikes with a rough several inches of space in between on the very bottom. Her nose held a sharp pointed lance that was directed outwards and up, tight spears following a path up her muzzle and forehead, trailing along her body until it reached her tail.

As her name suggested, two Large round horns protruding from her head behind the eyes. They curled inward, though it was not as distinct a curl as most her species, or goats, typically held. In front of the horns but behind the orbs were two whiskers, like those shown in eastern mythology, that waved around. This confused the boy, as no other specimens of the dragon held the unique structures.

Ignoring that detail, scales covered her face and body, though there was a gap of smooth skin that acted as a flap lined with spikes running along the edge. He could only guess at their point seeing as they were not her ears, as he had initially surmised. All they seemed to do was maybe keep her cool in hot weather, though perhaps they helped her in the water. Still forward, her scales were sharp and ridged, almost cool to the touch if it weren't for the light warmth present that rumbled throughout.

Her legs were large and muscled, with four claws on each paw, the size of his torso. The clas themselves were as long as his entire hand, those held on her back legs reaching twice that size. The back of her bicep and thighs held long spikes as well, four on each one, a distinct orange compared to the almost-black scales, though when shined with light were a deep emerald green.

Her wings were absolutely marvelous, allowing her to earn the supercilious personality she presented oft-times. These gigantic flaps of muscle, skin and bones were truly a force to be reckoned with, and appeared so powerful they could truly take him to the Gates of Babylon, with six different sections. Much like bats, they curled inwards, though it only did so partially, leaving the rest to curl into her sides, thus allowing her to trick her enemies that she had no such magnificent power as flight, what Wizards dreamed of and created a bastardised version with broomsticks. Nothing compared to their power, and he was quite content knowing they were on his side.

The inside was a bright, vivid green with streaks of yellow compared to the darker green on the outside that was shown throughout the rest of ehr body as well. Each one looked like they could sweep him up, and her joints allowed ehr such dexterity that she could, would, and had done so before. He had feared for her safety in the early months of his first year at Hogwarts, when she was as tall as him, nothing more. Now, she towered over Hagrid's hut, who was joyful at taking care of her, even feeding the lazy Dragon. He had even spotted the Half-Giant taking rides on her back, having facilitated the first time when he offered it. While the man had been wary at first, fear of her collapsing, now he was thanking him every chance he got, even now.

It seemed Harry had earned Loyalty for life, that outweighed even his hero-worship for Dumbledore. The man had saved his life, but Harry was like a son and a good friend, even bringing several of his dreams true. Hagrid had passed his examinations over the summer after he'd been cleared by Andromeda Tonks, a world-renowned Lawyer who was a good friend to the old Gryffindor, and done it as a favour to an old friend. Even Dumbledore had been unable to, or unwilling, to do such a thing.

But we return to the dragon, whose tail was absolutely magnificent. Much like the Hungarian Horntail, her tail was a ball of spikes, though brought down to a degree that it appeared more like a cross between the Ridgeback and Horntail, with the spikes significantly larger but much more dispersed. Still deadly, and one did not want to get too close. Their orange distinction like lava, running from the tip of her nose to a large ball of magma at the end of her tail, tipping her wings and paws.

Truly, the Dragon had earned the title of the Most Beautiful, and Most Deadly, predator alive.

Harry walked over and stroked the creature's snout, Hedwig on his shoulder where she seemed content to stay. The Phoenix had chosen to visit him in many classes, much to the teachers ire as students turned out of their seats to see. He had earned many a detention in potions from said objects exploding. Snape may be passive to him in comparison to the other Gryffindors, but that patience only lasted so long. Bright flashes of light and the resultant explosions were one thing that crossed the line. Thankfully, they had been quite simple, typically him washing cauldrons and being regaled with stories of his Mother by the Professor while he stocked his ingredients cabinet, as the boy had asked. It seemed every time he did, the cold facade of the man cracked a bit, and it was now visible even to the other students, though not enough to question at this point in time.

_~Father, are you sure about staying in the Castle? I've sensed the presence several times now, and while it may not be a threat currently, I don't want to see what holds such an aura of power.~ _Gracie had sensed a powerful creature in the castle these last days, and was worried for him. To be honest, even he was a bit frightened. She had also taken to calling him Father since she hatched and gained the power of speech, which while surprising in and of itself, could really only benefit him in the long run. After all, imagine the benefits that came with being the Father of a freaking _**Dragon**_!? It far outweighed any negatives. And if he became a wizard father in the future, it would certainly help him get used to such terms.

_~Yes, Gracie, as I've told you before, it may be frightening, but Hogwarts is my home, where my friends stay, could I really leave them to such a fate?~_ Here, Gracie frowned. At least, as close as you could come to a dragon frowning.

_~But Father, why not take them with you? Or tell the whiskered old man? Perhaps he could help.~_ Here, Harry actually paused. Perhaps Dumbeldore could help. But he'd rather get a grasp on what exactly it was that had been roaming through Hogwarts.

Unfortunately, just as he was about to walk back to the castle, leaving his companions to play once more, something whizzed past his nose. Only his seeker reflexes, which he had been honing this year, with tryouts coming up the following week he wanted to earn a spot on the team and beat the extraordinary Gryffindor seeker Percy Weasley, who had demonstrated his brothers skill, though not excitement, at the game. He only did so because the Twins had apparently pranked him incessantly until he accepted, and because the previous year they had lacked someone to take the spot.

Suddenly it came back, and he dodged once more, puzzled what was evidently a ball. He went to take a closer look, but when it arrived just in time to miss his nose, he decided action was first, questions were later. He pulled out his wand and cast a sixth-year level he had spent the last month practising.

'Bombarda!' He commanded, watching as it exploded into pieces, and he peered closely at the fallen object. Unable to arrive at any conclusions himself, he decided that meeting with Dumbledore was in order. He waved goodbye to his Dragon and Phoenix, who ignored him in favor of their game, As he made his way up the steps. The man's password was given to him every week, seeing as his lessons continued, though the man had now focused primarily on alchemy, since it was a subject that fascinated the boy.

Trip also had the password, but he had lessons scheduled at a different time, seeing as he was not as ahead as Harry, who had spellcasting down practically to a T, though his Theory could use some work. The boy had become somewhat more distant, though that may have more to do with spending more of his time with Daphne, Hermione, Liz and Luna. Harry was typically more solitary a person anyways, a trait he had learned early in his childhood. While helpful then, it wasn't very useful when he was trying to make friends. He was simply more of a loner, though Luna made it a thing to spend at least one hour a day with him, whether they talked together, or she went ona spiel about her day. Honestly? He didn't mind the sessions, they allowed him some reprieve from the crazy world into the bewildering maze that was Luna Lovegoood's mind, though it was certainly more peaceful.

As Harry noted the time, it was still another half-hour until Potions. He began to jog up to the office, and once he reached the stone gargoyle, after passing the warm orange and yellow stone passageways, he whispered 'Sugared Violets' and gained passage to the area. He observed DUmbledore was working on something personal that he couldn't quite read from his vantage point, and Fawkes was sleeping at his perch, though the Phoenix let out a trill as his presence was known, and Dumbledore looked up, smiling at his appearance.

'Ahhh, Mr. Potter, what an Honour! Though it would be Lord Potter-Black now, wouldn't it?' Dumbledore smiled with his patronizing Grandfather grin, but Harry was too surprised to take notice. He was severely confused at his statement. No one knew of his rising in status, much less his other house.

'I don't understand sir, First, how do you know I'm Lord Potter, and I'm not Lord Black?' Dumbledore's eyes drooped for a moment, and he seemed to grow a bit older.

'Your Relatives did not tell you?'

'Sir, my Relatives would rather I stay in my room and not talk, the only reason they didn't lock me in there was because they were afraid I'd turn them into pigeons.'

'Then I am most severely disappointed in Petunia. I thought she was better than that, but I was apparently too hopeful. Come, we must head to Gringotts. I'm sure Severus will understand if you are a bit late.' He stepped out of his chair, giving Fawkes a pet with his withered hand. Harry scratched the bird behind his crest, as Hedwig preferred, and saw Dumbledore light up at the Phoenix's enjoyment, apparently having learned a new soft spot.

They stepped over to the fireplace, where Dumbledore encouraged him to go first, and he took the floo powder, and intoned 'Diagon Alley', landing in the Leaky Cauldron, where Dumbledore appeared moments later. He was led to the back where he performed the necessary taps, and the bricks moved away to reveal the large shopping center. Dumbledore took charge now, taking them to the marble building as people stared at him in undisguised awe. He had done some research, and had been surprised at what he'd discovered about his status as celebrity.

While the Vanquisher-of-Voldemort was more of a regional title known only to Britain and Ireland, the Boy-Who-Lived was a world-renowned one. Everyone knew his name, the babe who'd survived a spell that had never left a victim in it's several-millennia old history. He had done what all considered impossible.

At the start, most had believed it was some sort of ritual done by his parents, nothing special about him. But even the foremost experts on magic, including Dumbledore himself, had yet to discovered a way to do so. Even ten years later, it was strictly impossible. He recalled the time he'd asked the old man about it in one of his first year lessons…

_'Professor, why did I survive the Killing Curse?' The Young Boy looked up at the Old Man with naivety only possible in those of an age in youth, and curiosity that presented itself in the oldest of wizards._

_'Why, My Boy, I do not believe I can answer that.' He answered with a delicate tone, not wishing to upset the child. It was clear he had been reflecting on his past, especially since it was All Hallows Eve, and the man didn't wish the boy to believe that his parents efforts were pointless._

_'But… Surely you do? You're supposed to be the greatest wizard alive, surely you uncovered the secret to my current existence?'_

_'I tried, Mr. Potter, I tried. For a time I even believed it was Love. How foolish…' He hung his head, shaking it in amusement at his own naivety. 'Now, more than ever, I believe there is truly something special about you. I had the unique privilege at looking into the Department of Mysteries, the most renowned centre of the world for research, and nobody, not even your mother, had discovered how to do so.'_

_'I theorized that it was her sacrifice that played the role in your survival, but those in the room of Love truly reprimanded me for such cruel barbs at the deceased. 'Do you really think others wouldn't give their lives for their children?' 'Does thou truly think that it was solely Lily Potter to giver her Life for their young progeny, despite given a choice?' Of course they did, it was well recorded that Mrs. McKinnon was given the choice, as one of such pure blood, to give her life in exchange for the simple death of their child. She, and her husband, refused to give in. He killed them anyway.' Harry nodded along, not entirely processing that others had given their lives for their children._

_'So you can safely stand there and be confident that you are special, my boy, for you've accomplished the impossible. Broken the laws of Fate. I can only believe the Lord of Foresight has plans for you, and let us hope they are good. Just don't grow an ego on us, nobody needs an arrogant child who is too sure of himself. We can always improve.' Harry nodded, remembering his one lesson on Wizarding Religion, and laughing along, promising not to grow supercilious, for that was the downfall of the greatest of men._

Harry was startled back to reality when they stepped into the hallowed marble halls, passing the message in gold, and entering the main chamber. It was a beautiful bronze, a single teller at the forefront for the more prestigious customers. The chandeliers hung low, illuminating it with a bask of gold from the glass candles, lit by what could only be magic, as the grumpy goblins weighed the many precious materials in front of them.

Each one was wearing a three-piece pinstripe suit, complete with a pocket square and, occasionally, medals. When he looked closer, they looked like Muggle Medals of Valor, which made him question what they had done to earn such prestigious awards. Though, It was possible they weren't as special as he believed, since they were made of gold, which was ever so precious to the creatures, he suspected he was correct in this regard.

Dumbeldore seemed to take his intrigue with amusement, but stopped him as he began to walk over to one at the wooden counters that lined both sides of the room, with rare gates that lead deeper into the bank, much like the one he had taken to get his information and meet Kragrakk; that led to the doors beyond. When he peered up at the Headmaster, he simply received a smile, as the annoying man moved forwards,

Initially, he believed the Chief Warlock wanted to go too one further up, rather than that which was weighing rubies, like he had wanted to meet. But when they began walking forwards to the front teller, his eyes widened. Harry hadn't even considered that one, it had been a normal teller that took him to Kragrakk. This one appeared to somehow be even older, with frizzy hair that lined his scalp, wrinkled skin, a long, hooked nose and curved claws that reached over the desk as the Goblin peered at him, longer than any the others had, He grunted out a 'What do you want!?' as he went back to his work. Undeterred by the Goblin's hostility, Dumbledore trudged on.

'Greetings, sir! I wished to speak to the Black Accounts manager, I have Lord Potter here, to claim it as his right as Sirius Black's heir, who has chosen to pass on the status to him.' His smile was deceiving though, there was a cold steel behind his eyes that dared the creature to deny him.

'Very well, follow me, Lords.' Harry looked up at the Headmaster, and was surprised by the response he got.

'I'm sure you've read books on the subject, and received your history teachings from your account manager, and found them contradictory?' Harry nodded. 'Well, few books have been published with accurate tellings, as each has a perceived way in who is pureblood and who is not. For example, in some wizarding circles, the Poterimus family is not considered proper Purebloods, as they are suspected to have come from Muggle roots. Though it should be kept in mind this belief stemmed after they changed it to Potter, and solely in the uneducated. Only that which is passed down by trustworthy and expert sources, should be believed. Such as Myself, and Gringotts. May I lend you a book once we return to my office, it will give all the necessary information?'

Harry nodded and, content, the two wizards followed the Goblin. They had passed through the gate, THE gate, and walked down various passageways. Harry noticed the smell of old leather and shoe polish. Also, that there were several entrances which, when he looked out, saw the side gate with which he had entered to meet his manager. It seemed the big gate was solely for display and hyperbole, rather than actual use.

They were deep into the place now, about the same level as when he went through the twisting passageways himself, that they turned a door, and the Goblin guided them through, Dumbledore thanking him to a sole grunt of acknowledgement before the door was closed. In Front of them sat another Goblin, though this one appeared to look just like Kragrakk, with a different suit. As he looked closer, Harry noted a slight difference in eye colour. Whereas Kragrakk had brown orbs, this one had distinctly black, beady ones that reminded him of Uncle Vernon, though with more kindness and less greed, ironically.

They waited patiently for the Goblin to speak.

**Read & Review Plz**


	14. The Darkness of Light

I** do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

'Hello, Humans. I am Ragakk, Black accounts manager. Lord Potter, you would know my brother, Kragrakk. We dueled and I earned the right to be the Black Accounts Manager, as the old one died some time ago, and with no new eligible heirs than the imprisoned Sirius Black, there was no point in getting a new one. Kragrakk took it over as you were the new heir and he was in charge of your accounts. Since I had none to watch over and my brother was already due with yours, he offered them to me so long as I beat him in a duel. I did, and now we both have a job.' He said this in a cold monotone, and Harry nodded absentmindedly, taking in the information and glad his friend wasn't overworking himself, while Dumbledore looked on in surprise, with slight awe.

Kragrakk had made a name for himself in both Goblin and Wizarding lands, since he was the Potter Manager, and a supremely decorated warrior in the last Goblin Rebellion. He had defeated more wizards than could be counted, and had been the one to initiate the peace between the two races. He had defeated countless cousins and rival families who wished for control over such valuable assets. That this Goblin in front of him had managed to stop his brother was worth respect. Personally, Ragakk was certain his brother had let him win, already overwhelmed with the recent changes and constant investments he was making for the Potter boy, and didn't need the added stress of the Black accounts. That he was his brother, was likely the only reason Kragrakk had really let him win though, as had it been anyone else not direct family, they would have died at the end of his brothers blood-stained axe.

Eventually, they moved on, and Dumbledore questioned about the Black inheritance and why Harry didn't receive a letter. This left the goblin puzzled, as they had sent nearly a dozen.

'Are you absolutely sure you haven't received any? This is most unusual, as only the Magic Guardian is allowed to put up Owl Wards, and you have none. Hmmm… Even your former magical guardian is befuddled…' Stroking his chin, the goblin said the last part in a whisper, pensive.

'I'm quite certain and would have informed you had I gotten one.'

'If any had come to me, I would have taken the boy myself. And while this is concerning, we have more immediate concerns, such as the Black lordship. Until today, I was under the belief Draconus Malfoy was next in line to receive the Lordship, as was much of Magical Britain.' Dumlbedore leaned forward in his seat, sitting tall to give off an air of superiority Harry hadn't seen before. The goblin's answers were clearly unsatisfactory.

'Yes, they've truly tried their damndest to make it seem that way, haven't they? But no, as Godson of Sirius Black, Adopted Blood son of Sirius Black, and Grandson of Dorea Black nee Potter, young Harry has the closest ties to the main line, unlike Narcissa who is simply the offspring of a recent Cadet branch. Should Harry die, Draconus might, but judging by his power, that seems unlikely.' The Goblin grinned as he finished, staring at the young Lord with something akin to pride, seeing as the boy was like his brother's son, and his nephew.

'Yes, and even if he can't defend himself, I will try my damndest to keep him alive. I already failed his parents, I won't fail their son.' The old man gave the boy a nod, as if to ensure himself that he would honour his word.

'Well, let's cut this one shorter, I have much work and the boy has classes.' Ragakk pulled out a box, opening it contained a ring. There lied a beautiful gem on a band of almost no equal, who's looks Harry could only compare to his Lord Potter ring.

The gem was a beautiful black zircon, inlaid with diamonds that formed a white line which encircled the top of the gemstone. In the center were more white diamonds in the shape of two wands, crossed and firing little amber sparks. The detail amazed him, as on the side he noticed more diamonds in the shape of a large B, on all four sides. It was as large as his small finger's nail, and the band itself was a wonderful silver, that once put on his finger, he suspected would resize itself.

In contrast, his Lord Potter ring was strange, as House Potter's colour was a deep purple, as evidenced by the amethyst as a were yellow decorations fused into the gem, amber shapes of two griffins with outstretched swords, and if one looked close enough, they could spot a dragon in the shape of a P on each side. The band itself was gold, shiny and had more, smaller amethyst studded along the top, unlike the Black's singular one. It's craftsmanship appeared a bit rougher, giving off the idea that the Potter one was made earlier in a time when blacksmithing was still at its early stages.

Eventually, he pulled himself from his contemplation and admiration, looking at Dumbledore who gave him an encouraging grin. He didn't trust the Headmaster completely, but for now, he seemed to be acting in his best interests. So he turned back to the band that represented his future, and put it on. Once he did, a surge of power flew through him. For a few seconds, all was normal. But then… it was not like the Potter Lordship.

This energy was dark, evil. It reeked of death, and seemed to consume his mind for a second. He turned to the others, who peered at him in fear, and he smiled. It made him feel incredible, powerful, and truly omnipotent. It could allow him to protect his friends, his family. To keep them safe in the darkest of days, all he had to do was give in. Let the ring take over and destroy his enemies. It could, he knew it could.

He welcomed it, just for a second. He basked in the power it wrought. That which countless generations had enjoyed, and imprinted on the device as they left it behind. He had visions of a beautiful future, one in which everybody was content, loving and true. Where the World was one of greatness, and everything was at peace. He saw his teacher smiling down upon him, and a daughter looked up in naivety and curiosity. What could he not do!

But then, in this flight of emotions that lasted but a moment yet felt like eternity, he saw her. His mother, begging for him to come back, to keep it from consuming his very soul. His father stood there by here, with a voice far fainter, telling him to stay strong. By him, his Grandfather, Grandmother and the rest of his family, whom he had seen in the mirror. And by staring out at them, truly feeling everything they meant, he fought back. Against the darkness that was attempting to devour everything he was. His Light.

So he stood, from his crouched position in his mindscape, and unleashed his wand from its holster. He stood against a figure clad in black, a mask of stark white staring out. Holes of pure darkness were carved, peering down at his smaller figure. He raised his wand, and began casting, using spells he thought he never knew. The figure raised his own, and they dueled. Him for his family, the other for reasons known only to them.

The duel was intense, casting a bombarda it was blocked by a shield he had never seen, ancient waves of powerful magic reaching out. How could this all be because of some stupid ring!? He dodged, using his power to the best of his ability, calling upon the wisdom Dumbledore had imparted in their lessons. Throwing out an expelliarmus, he avoided a bone breaker.

The surroundings seemed to be collapsing as a wave of darkness reached out, but he held strong. Throwing spell after spell, purple and red against green, white, and black. The man was holding out, waiting for something. Perhaps when he would give in, perhaps a certain moment when he would lose focus. But he refused. He couldn't lose this battle, the ring would not win.

Just as he sent an expelliarmus, the man sent a Killing Curse, and a bright light filled the area. Once his eyes opened, he saw a chain connecting his wand to the mans. It filled his vision and he saw, in the small room he could, the mask of the man. It was bone white, with red bars that curled out the edges of the inside of the void, yet didn't touch and went straight up. Their end, a quarter circle produced a bigger connection to the socket. 2 Black S's were at the corners, above the eyes. A bronze T with two circles stood out and split it in two. There were a few more decorations, but he couldn't make them out, shifting his focus back to his wand.

His wand. Decorated with intertwining lines of emerald green and dark black, carved with small decorations he had made, as Ollivander had suggested to personalize it. He had added a Lightning Bolt as was the shape of his scar, ever shown on his forehead, along the ivy, with the recent addition of a grims head on the black, much like Erebus. At the tip, he had marked a phoenix's beak, adding a tint of blue. He could feel the power radiating out, the Graphorn and Nudu's life force consuming him, and he bathed in it, much like he had the darkness of the ring. It's potential unlimitless, and he focused, forcing the connection, which had been slowly moving towards him, back.

The Dark Wizard across from him did nothing, solely looking into his eyes, and it was eerie. He noticed another weapon on their belt, a cylindrical base to some strange object, and in that moment, they turned the ball of pure magic, emitting sparks lost to the air. Sounds of battle fell to the background as he tried to fasten his attention solely on the epicenter of their conflict, the clash of light blinding as sweat ran down his brow.

Everything was on this. If he lost… His future was gone. His life was over, and the end would have arrived. He was twelve, he shouldn't have to face these kinds of things! He channeled his anger, pain, and rage into his wand, ignoring his focus, his happiness and Love, beginning to overpower the man. He felt the power turning, and he smirked.

Just as it fell upon his opponent's wand, cracking under the pressure, he looked into those pits. The ones that seemed to lead straight to Tartarus. As he did, he saw something that stunned him. It shook his very core, and once the wand slipped from their hand, landing in his, he stepped back out of shock. What the Hades…

Just as he turned back, he watched as the Darkness crumbled, his opponent falling into pieces, disintegrating before his very eyes. He turned to where he had heard the clash of battle but saw nothing, nobody was there. Tired, he fell to the ground, sighing and groaning in pain. That battle had taken a lot out of him.

When he opened his eyes, he was back in the room, both rings still on his finger, leaving the place of pure Light, ignorant to the new dot of black that blemished its purity. He looked around, seeing pure fear on Ragakk's face and Dumbledore standing, hand shaking as he raised his wand to Harry's head, who looked upin puzzlement.

'Wha- What happened?' Dumbledore looked down in pity, as his wand was lowered. However, it was Ragakk who answered.

'That was the Black Family magic. Which tests each wearer, each one is unique to the wearer. You may not divulge what it was, the magic will prevent it. It could not be tortured out of you, either. Your secrets are your own, and the family always believed that no matter what you might think, these tests are too personal for others to know.' Ragakk still looked at him with fright, and Harry still failed to understand what was wrong. He had passed the test, so what was there to fear?

'Well, that's enough for today, Harry. You can come later to deal with finances, for now, there are classes to attend. Come along.' Dumbledore gestured for him to follow, waving goodbye to the Goblin. Harry copied, though Ragakk still did not respond.

They exited the office, entering the passageways that still had the same leathery smell, curved doorways and striped wallpaper of Silver and Gold, though he now paid a bit more attention. Paintings were carved into the stone, depictions of great warrior goblins facing wizards, defeating traitors. He even caught one that showed Sidious. All the races united to stop him, though the next one depicted their fall.

Another drawing in the wall was unique, in that it wasn't paintings, but words. They stood out, though he didn't quite have time to read them as Dumbledore hurried off. He tucked the memory in his mind for later review, and perhaps he got a good enough look to be able to read it once more. Finally he managed to catch up to the old man, and they walked out one of the side gates, exiting the bank. He looked down at the ring as they moved towards the leaky cauldron. Reflecting on those events, he thought it made him better. While his ideas on who it was he fought were lacking, he still managed to defeat a truly vicious opponent.

They stepped into the dinky pub, the smell of butterbeer thick in the air as the poor lighting illuminated Tom the Barkeep, and his customers. One was clearly male, with long hair and a black cloak, drinking what appeared to be a steaming mug of red liquid, another one was a woman talking with her friend, both laughing with a high pitched voice that grated on his ears, a figure who was clad in a black robe and cloak, hiding their face.

Just as they reached the floo, he felt for his holster, intent on returning his wand which had slipped out in the chaos of Ragakk's office, but it met resistance. Frowning, he looked down only to see another wand. Quickly covering his arm with his sleeve, he grabbed the powder Dumbledore offered him and called out

'Headmaster's Office!' Once Harry landed on his feet, he quickly moved to the door, ignoring Fawke's cries. Unfortunately for him, the man whose office this belonged to had no intention of letting him leave now.

'Harry, wait. I must speak with you.' For the first time, not calling Mister, or Lord, even Boy, Dumbledore called him by his first name. Somewhat surprised by that, he walked over, sitting in a seat at the front of the old man's desk, for his age was clear, wrinkles everywhere and none of his youthful happiness present. The Transfiguration Master, which he had learned after a curious search through the library, grabbed a lemon drop from his desk, popping it into his mouth as an attempt to calm his nerves.

'What you faced… don't let it consume you. I watched for a second, what you could become, and it is truly scary. Something like that… I see you as a grandon, and I don't wish to watch you fall. Yet at the same time, it does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live. These types of things can destroy you if you try all your life to keep it from happening, and may very well set in motion the events you are attempting to stop anyways.' The old man handed the book he had promised Harry, dismissed him, and as the door closed he sighed.

His age was catching up to him, he supposed, as he ate another drop. The boy whom he had come to care for in just the few moments he had spent when he was a babe was growing up, but it may not be good. And yet… his paranoia had bred the previous Dark Wizard. Perhaps he should take his own advice. Besides… even if the boy turned evil, he did not think he could dare to turn his wand at him. Even earlier, in the office, it had just about killed him.

So if the boy turned evil… He could not fight beside or against him. In the end, he'd offer his wisdom, for it's all he could do. Taking out a bottle of firewhiskey, he poured himself a chalice-full from the cabinet beside it, Hogwarts crest displayed proudly. He raised his glass, as all the portraits did with their own chalices, and spoke:

'To Lily and James Potter, May your son succeed wherever he may go.' Taking a long swig, he placed it down. For now, he must overcome this curse which has consumed his life, and help the child as much as he could.

—

It was Halloween, and it seemed Gryffindors were a callous bunch. Ronald had begun with a long run off about his favored topics and how the Chudley cannons would win again, until Harry snapped at him. Hermione and Daphne understood that it was a painful day, offering their apologies and a box of chocolates each, Hermione explaining to Ronald his feelings who came by later that day to apologise for his insensitivity. Draco had stayed away, understanding his feelings and also knowing his own family's role in the war.

Harry had initially been intent on simply sleeping in, but Sir Nicholas had invited him to his Deathday and it seemed to hold the gloominess that his brooding needed. Not the warm, soft feel his Ravenclaw bed held. So he walked down the stone, admiring the portraits that lined the walls. Past Ravenclaw tower, down the stairs and into the dungeons. Dragging his fingers across the raw bricks, remembering Daphne.

Daphne, whose lovely black hair felt incredibly soft in his hands. Blue eyes like pools of swirling water, and a perfect button nose. He was still far too young to feel any sort of true romantic sensation, but there was still fondness. Her pale skin whose fairness was unmatched, he could see where he might find her attractive in his future.

Eventually he reached the room in which the party was being held, and opened the door. Inside he found it going on in full swing, several of the Headless Huntbeing spotted. Moldy food and bleu cheese were placed on plates, though he spotted a corner where there was fresh food, seeing as there were living people in attendance. He even thought he spotted the Headmaster talking to a ghost joyously, but he turned away to see Trip and Draco with a plate of some breads, cheese and grapes, conversing with NHN. Walking over, he introduced himself.

'Hey, Nearly Headless Nick, how are you? I see the party is going well.' NHN nodded, Trip and Draco giving raised eyebrows as they spotted the food being 'Eaten' by the ghosts.

'Yes, it's doing quite well isn't it? Some of the hunt even showed up! I was surprised they responded to my invite, but will most certainly not look a gift horse in the mouth! Please, have some refreshments.' He turned to the side allowing Harry access to the tables, and went off to greet some more Ghostly Guests.

'Hey Harry, how's it going? I know this day's hard for you, and want to make sure you're okay.' Trip began the conversation, as Draco was far too nervous.

'It's fine, the day has been painfully sad and boring, but I don't want to talk about it. How goes your studies with the Headmaster?' He asked, covering his face at the beginning. Draconus did look up with interest at this topic.

'They're alright, we're moving somewhat slowly because I'm struggling somewhat with spellcasting, ironically.' Harry nodded, and Draco merely seemed confused.

'Well, no matter how much power you have, it must be refined with skill to be truly helpful. Once you master the very basic traits you need for each one, it will be significantly easier. Remember the Pillars.' Now Draco was completely befuddled, while Harry simply served himself.

'Yes, yes, I know. Strength, Intent, Willpower, and Creativity. Dumbledore's gone on about them for ages, but I still don't understand.' Trip took a big bite of a cracker with cheese, looking at Harry, pleading for an explanation.

'Strength is simple, your natural magical strength, and cannot be changed. At least, not without rituals that will warp your mind and self into something truly abhorrent. Intent is what you want, you could cast the most powerful and deadly spell you could imagine, like Fiendfyre, but if you don't _want_ to cast it, nothing will happen.' Harry said, and began walking, waiting for the others to follow.

'Willpower is your confidence. Your belief in yourself. So long as you believe that you can do an action, you can do it. If you don't believe you could cast the Killing Curse, no matter how much hatred you push into it, nothing will happen. As for Creativity… It's something typically inherent in one, like magical power. You're born with it. It's really more useful in areas like Transfiguration, but still has uses in other aspects of magic. However, unlike strength, it can be changed without anything special.' He walked over to a ghost, greeted it and moved on, Trip still following, hanging onto his every word. Draco just absorbed it all, deciding to look it up later.

'For example, Occlumency can cloud one's imagination, but if they were to loosen up some aspects of their control, it can be freed and allow them more power. I was terrible at Transfiguration until I allowed my mind more freedom, and now am gaining steady progress, Dumbledore even commented that I'm showing the same promise as my father. Another way is to simply practice, practice imagining things and creating them in the mind, so you know what it's like. The mind is just like any other muscle or tool, train it, and it will come back stronger.' Harry finished the conversation, leaving Trip in though as Draco moved on. He went to speak with a ghost, who looked dreadfully sad.

'Hello, Miss, how are you?' The ghost was a woman, dressed in robes with a wound in her stomach, and always seemed sad. He'd seen her around Hogwarts and Ravenclaw tower, but he'd neglected to meet her.

'I'm doing alright, thank you. My name is Helena Ravenclaw, and yours?' Harry's eyes widened at Ravenclaw, until he realized she must feel the same way about her name as he does about his scar.

'My name is Harry Potter, Ms. Ravenclaw. May I ask how you died?' Harry had found that ghosts seemed to enjoy speaking of how they perished, however odd that was.

'I died from my Love, whom I learned killed himself after. The story of Romeo and Juliet was based off of us, though quite a bit twisted.' She said proudly, showing she also thought of this as something good, or perhaps unique.

They continued to converse, but eventually it got a bit late, Trip and Draco wanted to go see if they could snag a bit of dessert from the Great Hall before bed. They exited after saying goodbye to a morose NHN, who'd been denied entry into the Headless Hunt once more. Harry decided to see if there was a spell to help him, seeing as the man truly wanted it, though it would be more of a background project he'd not put too much work into. Already it seemed quite unlikely he'd be able to get anything worthwhile from it. But the man had been dead for over 400 years, he deserves some happiness.

As he walked out of the dungeons, his friends noticed the time, and decided it was too late to eat any more. Dumbledore would likely be starting his closing remarks. So they headed up the stairs, towards Ravenclaw tower. But once they reached the Second floor, by Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, a message brought them to a stop in horror, as what appeared to be a message in blood was written on the wall.

Next to it, hanging by her tail on a scone, was a frozen Mrs. Norris, Filch's nasty cat. Her brown and black spotted fur matted, whiskers drooping and eyes frozen open, it was clear before she died there was a sight of frightening proportions. Each boy was stunned in fear, and before they knew it, footsteps were walking up the stairs, and sooner than they could bring up their robes and boots from the cold, wet floor covered in icy water dripping out from under the girls bathroom nearby, four large groupings of students prevented them from passing.

All any of them could do was look in horror upon the message imprinted on the wall, fearful for when the other houses would come upon them. Several loud gasps were let out as they arrived, though the three were still horrified, yet curious as to why the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins were here. A voice quickly called that they were coming through, and screams were let out as more people arrived.

'By the King of Magic, what is going on here?' Mcgonnagall's stern voice yelled above the commotion, attempting to get a good look. She let out her own gasp of horror as she looked upon the message, the cat, and the three boys standing near it.

'Good Heavens, what are you three doing away from the Great Hall, and why are you here!?' She practically cried out, worried for them.

'We were going to Sir Nicholas's Deathday party, ma'am, and we stumbled upon this only a few seconds before you.' Harry explained cautiously, knowing that despite the clearly advanced magic shown, they were major suspects. After all, what would you do if you came upon three people in front of a blood-written message on a wall, feet drenched in water and a dead cat hanging right by them?

'It is true, Minerva, they were there. I myself attended, they had the most delightful Crab Cakes. I saw them myself, not some ten minute ago, far too recently for them to slip away and do this. We all know how quick Mrs. Norris is.' Dumbledore came to their rescue, followed by sallow-faced Snape who glared at the message, taking on a slightly softer one for Harry. After all, they had to keep up appearances. Unfortunately, both Filch and Mrs. Norrise chose to arrive with them, which caused a whole new commotion.

'My cat, my poor Mrs Norris, what did they do to you!? Please, please, I'm so sorry.' Then the grouchy man turned to Harry. 'YOU, YOU YOU YOU! YOU'RE ALWAYS HERE, ALWAYS IN THE WRONG PLACE AT THE WRONG TAIME, AINTCHA!? WELL NO LONGER! YOUR DAYS OF RECKONING ARE UPON YOU, NASTY BOY! I'LL HAVE YOU STRUNG UP FOR THIS, I SWEAR ON ME MOTHERS GRAVE! SHE'LL DO YOU IN!' His accent, which seemed similar to a pirates, came in full force as he broke down crying. Of course, Dumbdilocks had to interject.

'Oh, so sad, so sad. If I had been here, I could have saved her! Why I would have used my skills of perfect fighting to prevent her death. I promise, Sir Filch, We shall avenge her!' Nobody was amused by his theatrics, Filch too broken over his cat, the others disillusioned to his fame. Even Hermione had lost her crush, instead ranting on the injustice of letting his farce set of books continue to be printed.

'It's alright, Mr Filch, Mrs Norris isn't dead. Simply petrified. Why, Ms Sprout is working with mandrakes in her classes, I've no doubt they'll be matured and ready to harvest by the end of the year. I'd order some in, but I'm afraid they simply aren't in season for several months where they'll still not be fully grown until mid-summer, and too few people are petrified for restorative droughts to be found anywhere but St Mungo's emergency storage, and they'd not lend them out to me no matter what.' Harry thought this over, and it did make sense.

Mandrakes were best planted in Winter for best results, that Sprout had begun them earlier was just a blessing to Filch. The only place you'd find mature ones now would be in potions masters cabinets, but no one would be willing to give up their ingredients, and he knew for a fact Severus had already used the last of his, planning on taking Sprouts supplies once they had matured. He supposed Dumbledore might look elsewhere, but only the shadier places would contain anything and he did not strike Harry as the type to do that.

Eventually, the hubbub was over and Students were led to their dorms, as the Headmaster scourgified away the message on the wall, leaving naught a trace of the previous message. As He and Trip split off from Draco to go to their own tower, he reflected on the message posted.

_**The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the Heir, Beware!**_

**Read and Review Plz**


	15. Legends are Made

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

As Harry thought over everything he had read, he didn't recall any books that spoke of the Chamber of Secrets, and supposed he might ask Binns, see if there was something the Old Ghost might assist him with. They entered the Ravenclaw common room, and he spied around with tired eyes.

It was Grey, Bronze and Blue. The walls were mostly stone, though Ravenclaw drapes covered the windows with posters decorated with Eagles around the room. One side was dedicated to desks, polished mahogany tables that shone in the torchlight set on shiny titanium legs which held even the heaviest of students. Their chairs were the same, with a beautiful eagle imprinted on the back in blackened wood, the same as held on the corners of the desks.

Bookshelves lined every corner, and he had learned each student typically gave at least one book not already on there, signing their name inside the cover as a sort of permanent record for every single student in the house. Their wood was a black oak, and it was clear the tower was magically expanded, and continued to do so since there were bookshelves for what seemed miles, dating back to even the founders' days. No one had found the book supposedly added by Rowena Ravenclaw, but there was an entire club dedicated to going through every book for fun, trying to find what seemed like an urban myth at this point.

He had even asked for the spell designed to add the book, and though he had yet to give his contribution, he determined himself to do so. It wouldn't be a diary or some long-lost book of the founder's lives he discovered on his journey, he was far too Slytherin to give up such a treasure, but he'd give something. He moved away from the studying space, which he learned also had silencing wards around the entire space, and even minor spells that filtered out loud breathing, coughing, scratching of quills, and other annoying noises typically found when working from your ears unless specifically requested for otherwise.

Now, he examined the living space. The place where many came to relax after a long and stressful day, where OWL and NEWT students napped in between study sessions rather than sleep, except on Holidays. Those were reserved for even the most tedious of students to sleep in and enjoy the time off, magic woven into the very tower kept them from continuing it, as he had learned from an older student. It seemed Ravenclaw cared for her students, and refused to let them burn themselves out preparing for the notoriously hard tests.

Couches surrounded the room, an icy blue that blended well with the aesthetic the founder had been going for, large widow's walks pointing outwards also decorated with couches. Once, he thought he had spotted a bed on one, but he hadn't seen it again. He could only theorize that someone had either transfigured it, or the magic of the room had detected their need to sleep incredibly badly and immediately. All in all, he shook his head in amusement at the crammed bookshelves against the walls on Every. Single. One.

He looked over to the far right corner, where a water fountain had been built in, which he learned did not apply to any of the other houses, even an ever-filling water jug was there, along with it's plastic stand, complete with little paper cones that kept restocking themselves. He had learned it was a parting gift from a Seventh Year student who had found the idea entertaining.

In the far left corner, on the other hand, was a small stand filled with fruits, another parting gift from a Seventh Year, that constantly restocked itself from several trees and plants Hagrid had agreed to keep watered, though he noticed with amusement it was currently filled with Pumpkin Pie. Either more spellwork from a student, or a joke already woven in.

Every single person in Ravenclaw house left some memento of their time here, some gift. The students best at spellwork left items like those previously mentioned, Those good at theory wrote small books that were copied and given to a first year student once they were welcomed, and when they graduated, placed the ones they were given on an ever-filling set of bookshelves 'specially dedicated to the students wisdom, proceeding to write their own set. Everyone left some trinket or spell that helped others learn in their Seventh Year, and it was truly astounding.

In time, Harry tired of exploring the common room, and headed up the stone steps, leaving the comfortable carpet. When he finally made his way to the 2nd year boys dorm, he lied down, blowing out the candle by his bed. While it took some time to finally fall asleep under all the boy's, except Trip, snoring despite the silencing wards, the sweet world of dreamland was entered.

Unfortunately, it was not as he imagined. His mind seemed to still be in pieces from his claiming the Black Lordship, which he'd still not told anybody, and it was taking ages to rebuild. Every night he worked tirelessly, which thankfully did not present itself during the waking hours, to reconstruct everything he'd done. His defenses were in tatters, and when he'd asked Severus to test them, he'd gotten through far too easily. Heck, they were supposed to keep him out entirely!

Night by night, they were brought back together, memories sorted, which was unpleasant as he'd had to relive many horrid ones simply to place them back. He'd decided to redesign his protections, make them stronger in the wake of this collapse, take advantage of an opportunity few were given. Actually design his mind to his preferences.

Most didn't know that once they built their mindscape, they were stuck with it forever, lest they be torn apart unwillingly. They could be reinforced and built upon, but the base was impossible to change unless the necessary events occured. As such, most were unhappy with the designs they were stuck with. And because Legilimency was rarely practised and illegal, they had little chance of getting a new start. So Harry began from the ground up, deciding on a Zoo, with a Library nearby, and a Full, unique castle to guard his most valuable secrets.

For the Castle, He had an even larger Gracie guarding it, still growing along with the real dragons size who had a small section of the roof dedicated to them, constantly scouting out and spying on others, landing on the top, hooking her claws inside. Though he did note this Gracie had a sort of blurry edge to it, almost indistinct. Her horns were larger and more round, looking more like they ought to in a Romanian Longhorn, at least one fully grown.

Inside the Castle was far more dangerous, than even the gigantic dragon. Acromantula that responded only to him scattered about in the walls, ready to attack any who came intruding. Their beady black eyes and hairy legs creating the perfect scare for someone with even the slightest arachnophobia, and death. He moved on deeper, though he did note it was smaller than Hogwarts, but only slightly.

The next room held a pack of bloodthirsty crups who'd kill anyone but Harry on sight, as he summoned a bowl of food for each. This room, unlike the previous entrance area that held spiderwebs everywhere and was cold, unfeeling, was warm and comfortable, with grass growing through the stone, rubber balls for the crups to play with lying everywhere.

He moved on, heading down into the dungeons as the upper floors held nothing but traps. Each room held a fully grown Liger, magically enhanced to be nigh undetectable, and shadow panthers prowled the halls. He had set up portraits of everyone he knew in them, the more unpleasant the higher they went. So far, the first floor was filled, and the top floor only half covered. He particularly enjoyed conversing with Trip and Draco, though Daphne was always fun to talk to.

The upper floors had dozens of secrets buried underneath the floors, ready to spring out at any moment. Whether it be literal spring traps that launched them out and straight into Gracie's awaiting mouth, or adamantium balls, a metal he had read in one of Dudley's comics, coming through to bash them in. There were anti-Apparition, Portkey and any other known magical transportation wards set up, blocking anyone from skipping ahead.

Harry skipped down the corridors of the dungeon, which held an eerie and fearful aura to them, the stench of death reeked the halls. He passed a Dementor, which he'd read about of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them, seeing them as the perfect guards, since they were the supposed guards of Azkaban. Over a Lethifold, the cousin to the Dementor which preferred tropical areas.

He did note the distinct differences. Whereas Lethifolds were like black cloaks rising and wrapping themselves around you, Dementors had a figure inside the cloak, faceless and pale white. Since he'd not seen one in person, he'd guessed at their appearance. With knowledge of the Dementor's kiss, he'd misconstrued it as being a literal one in which they sucked out your soul, thus giving them rich, full red lips, one could even be spotted occasionally putting on lipstick as an added bonus. Snape had been truly disturbed when he'd seen them.

He arrived at the location for his deepest, darkest secrets, a hidden wall in Severus's office that turned. Inside it was pitch black lest he gave out a Lumos, and lining the walls were books. Most were dummy, though there was one, singular book, held to the far right wall, middle left, four inches up, six inches right, and there it was. The golden snitch. Not literally, of course, it was a worn black leather book which smelled of rotted parchment that seemed identical to all the others, yet held untold treasures. In it's pages were the things he wanted nobody to find, secrets that must never be told, knowledge that must never be shared.

In it, was the memory of his meeting with Dudley, at that bus stop on that fateful day, where they made the pact to be brothers in arms, cousins in blood. The bright sunshine shining down as they held each other's forearms, grasping like they had seen Muggle Knights on television. It also held his incident with Squirrel, when he had killed the man with his own two hands. Accidental or not, it had happened. He could never take it back, and would have to live with it the rest of his life.

Also contained within its hide-bound pages were any memories of his parents he could scrounge up, the faintest glimmers he could muster that filled him with absolute true joy and kept his Patronus alive. The hatching of Gracie and rebirth of Hedwig, first meeting with Trip, Hermione and Daphne. Yet it also contained his deepest secret. The thing he kept the closest to his chest in fear of others. The one thing he could never share with anyone whether his own conscience or magic.

The day he had fought that Dark Wizard in his mind.

Originally, Harry had been intent on studying the wand they held, learning why his and it produced that strange and unique reaction, but once he had arrived at his room, it had disintegrated before he got a chance to even get a good look. All he knew was it was made of very dark coloured woods. As far as he knew, Dumbledore had not shared what he had seen with a soul, and Harry kept that conversation afterwards in the book as well, knowing that he'd be a fool to forget.

Eventually, he grew tired of exploring his Mind-Castle, and moved over to the library. It held most of his everyday memories, those that were of little importance. He had Demiguise Librarians with extra long claws, apparition and a bite that could take out a shoulder, not to mention that they ganged up and split on their opponent to overpower them, who were complete with half-moon spectacles and shushes. Moving deeper into it, the only real protections were many trapped books and an underground level of some protected by a small army of Mountain Trolls. Ensuring it was secure, he moved onwards, deciding to create a moat around with a drawbridge, sharks and merman swimming the waters, Centaurs manning the gate.

He headed onto the Zoo, filled with all sorts of interesting creatures. He'd stocked it full of Mundane and Magical creatures alike, though Mundane was more of a relative term, since every one of them had magic, just not as chock-full of it as the 'Magical' ones. He had aviaries full of birds, pens filled with Elephants, crocodiles, Lions, Ligers, Tigers, Mooncalf, Chimaera, even Nundu, Cows, Horses, Cats, Dogs, every manner of creature alive was present, the deeper you got the more dangerous they became, acting as the perfect guards, memories hidden in the cages through various objects, deep under the soil. But once you got to the center of the Zoo, you truly hit the jackpot.

Dinosaurs roamed their cages, Tyrannosaurus by the Giganotosaurus,, Argentinosaurus next to Camarasaurus. He had even placed Gallimimus, Archaeornithomimus and more, every single species ever discovered that he had subsequently discovered in the many books in place. Pteranodons swooped down from the sky, gliding alongside Dimorphodon as Ramphorynchus fished in the large rivers and lakes present in the Gigantic Aviary. Harry smirked as he watched them move about, knowing that the memories he had buried into the sticks amongst their nests would never, ever be found.

Deciding he had enough of exploring, he just continued rebuilding, as his shields were almost back to the formidable walls they had been once upon a time. And as he slept, a smirk of contentment spread upon his face. He was happy.

The next day, the atmosphere was tense. Everybody was waiting for something, and yet nobody could really figure out what it was. Harry walked down the corridor with his friends, toward History of Magic. Already breakfast had passed, where he hadn't seen anyone who wasn't on edge. He had spotted Filch crying in the corner, occasionally glaring at him as he held Mrs Norris's collar in hand. Truly, he felt pity for the man, hated by all the school and having lost his only companion.

Eventually he and his friends had reached the classroom, which would be shared with the Gryffindors. Some students, he noticed, had not chosen to bring their customary pillow. This chaos was truly running rampant throughout the school, everybody slept in HOM! Though he did note Hermione was still carrying around her books, with the exception they typically were in reference to his Ancestor, or Hogwarts itself.

They were allowed entrance to the classroom, as it swung open by magic, and he took a good look around. It was quite sparse, blank wooden walls with scratches indented, the tables were a simple oak, many of them had scribbles and ink spilled, wooden legs holding it up that were always uneven and some were occasionally even missing.

At the forefront, there was a chalkboard behind a lecturn, on it was a globe, and the notes Binns typically read off word for word day after day. Unfortunately for him, today was not an atypical morning. The ghost finally floated in five minutes late, where Hermione was rocking her knee up and down repeatedly, much to the ire of those around her. Binns finally reached his place, where he immediately began droning on, and Harry began to feel tired, slowly drifting off. At least, until Hermione raised her hand.

Binns stopped, as Hermione had upset the established order, students slept while he spoke. But Hermione, who was attentive in every class, had decided to interrupt this balance, by interrupting him. Honestly, the professor didn't know what to make of it. SO he decided to do the obvious, and allowed her to speak.

'Professor, What is the Chamber of Secrets?' He looked disappointed, shriveled lips pursing as he took on a frown that merely enhanced the amount of wrinkles present, appearing to be similar to an old tortoise. He took a deep breath, which Harry questioned whether he even needed it, as he pinched his nose, small glasses that appeared as thick as the desk, brown suit dirtied with soot as he began to speak.

'The Chamber of Secrets is a myth that needs no explanation, there have been many people to search for it and nobody has ever discovered anything even in reference to it outside of legend. It is pointless to theorize on it, and is useless information. I teach solely in facts, not delusional fantasies. In September of that year, a subcommittee of sardinian sorcerers-' The only dead professor noticed Granger's question had garnered the attention of all his students, and that her hand was waving in the air once more.

'But sir, don't all stories always have some basis in fact?'

'I suppose you're right, but this is nothing more than fabrications weaved by foolish and prideful Slytherins who wanted people to believe their founder was superior. There's no point in diving any deeper.'

'Humor me, Professor, please. Even if there is no historical fact behind the legend, there must be some sort of truth. Even if it's minimal' Hermione said, her love of books and belief they were never wrong coming in full force.

'Very well then, The Chamber of Secrets is the fabled location of Salazar Slytherin's monster, a creature that can solely be controlled, or killed, by him and his Heirs. Nobody knows what it is, nor what it does, solely that it is designed to kill muggleborns, as History suggests. Salazar Slytherin was the Originator and Champion of blood purity, he saw muggleborns as inferior and risks to our way of life, that they were pointless and would only lead to our downfall.' Binns paused, staring out at everyone with his cold, unfeeling, lifeless eyes.

'There should be no doubt that this was wrong. Slytherin was wrong. It has been proven many times over that Muggleborns actually help wizards, by introducing new magic, and expanding the gene pool. Some have argued it will be the extinction of Magical Abilities. That is incorrect. Magical Abilities operate under their own set of genetics, in that they require specific conditions to become active. What should also be noted, is that ever since those with Muggle blood have been welcomed into our society, there has been a large influx of witches and wizards who present said abilities, with the exception of the few that seem to have died out, such as the Founder's lines. While a dissapointment, it should also be a hard lesson for all of you. Those lines and abilities might have been saved, if we'd welcomed new blood from the very beginning.' He now looked at each and every one, ensuring they understood the lesson.

'To end this discussion once and for all, I shall say this: The Chamber of Secrets is naught but a Myth, whose chances of being opened died with the Fall of Lord Voldemort Twelve Years ago. It is nothing to be worried about, and this recent incident should be considered nothing more than a prank. After all, every student alive hates Mrs Norris, don't they?' With that final line, Bnns returned to his notes, leaving his students to analyze those words. In all fairness, if Harry didn't know any better considering the events last year and his own status, he might have believed Binns.

For now, he merely zoned out, dreaming of a better world.

Harry was lying under his favorite tree in the courtyard, it was a tall, strong Aspen one, that covered him even if there were storms raging out. It provided a silent and solitary atmosphere that was rare in Hogwarts, despite its size. The rough bark rubbed against his back and dealt with any itch he might develop while reading, it's canopy dealing a shadow that covered his figure, hidden in it's deep roots. While far from the tallest amongst those littered around, it was still enough to cover his small figure, though that aspect may not be true following the next year.

Gilded Hubrishart had announced a dueling club to be starting the following day, and he wanted to be prepared. While there was absolutely no doubt quite a bit of it would be a joke, especially since the Poof would likely show off his 'Skills' for the first hour of the decidedly 2 hour length, it was still worth the practice. He figured at this point he might go toe to toe with a fifth year and come out victorious, though likely a close match. But just in case, he wanted to brush up on his old spells, make sure he had them down perfectly.

That led him to this book, 'Dueling for the Average Wizard', which showcased the basic moves and even gave the example of some advanced forms, but they were really only found in the next book, which Harry still found confusing. Okay, so he wasn't some Overpowered God-Wizard, Screw Him! The World isn't some dream land, where his titles gave him some sort of incredible power. Just political pull and gold. Besides, he didn't even have five of them officially yet, so there was that.

The section he was currently on was the form Vae Hostibus, Enemies Doom, which turned their own methods against them, unsurprisingly, incorporating a few dark spells into its repertoire. He was still struggling to complete the Transfiguration, which required turning a rock, typically either conjured or the result of a destructive spell to your opponents feet, into a Bloodhound, specifically chosen since it retained it's natural traits like the advanced sense of smell and superior strength, which was why it was a contingency plan if your opponent used disillusionment or some other form of camouflage, and you needed a quick way to locate them. Right now, he had trouble making it into its perfect form, as the only example he had was Fang, who wasn't fearsome enough and that leaked into the magic, meaning the resultant animal was no more vicious than an overgrown puppy.

He focused all his imagination into making a perfect Fang in his mind, though with more violent and deadly behaviour, and gave the incantation. When he opened his eyes, there stood a perfect form, progress. Now, he could detect a faint growling, as it began charging at a squirrel. When the dog tore it apart, he smirked. Now, all he needed to do was make this five times fast.

So he returned the dog back to its original form, and began repeatedly casting, each time producing the same result, a stone creature in perfect imitation of Fang, though completely grey, evil glint in its eyes which held a hint of the emerald green he saw every time in the mirror, inch-long claws that never retracted, and a snarl transfixed on it's maw, grey drool that dripped, turning into pebbles once it fell. Unfortunately, he only managed to reduce his time in half. Good, but not good enough.

He continued pushing himself, this was the last piece he needed and he would have perfected the form, finishing half the book. He'd not begun Dumbledore's gift from after the trip to Gringotts, since he always pushed himself to finish a book before he began another. And this spell was preventing that! He channelled his anger into the transfiguration, and managed to complete it with only a 7th of a second time gap. Now, he stepped back and admired his work. Just as he was about to pick up the book for the next form, he heard the crunching of leaves underfoot, and sprinted under the roots, intent on waiting for this new person to leave.

'Are you sure you saw him here?' Flitwick.

'Yes, I saw him standing right here, professor, he was casting a dark spell, I swear it!' He didn't recognize this voice, but it held a tone of no dismissal, suggesting they were too stubborn to let the subject go.

'Very well, Mr Comet. Do return to your common room, I'm sure your Gryffindor friends will miss you.' Harry peeked out, and spotted the boy crossing his arms, his face marred with a frown as he stomped back to the Castle. Just before the present professor turned and spotted him, he curled back inwards.

'You can come out, Mr Potter, there is nobody else here. I need to speak with you.' His tone held no leeway, and with resignation, also a bit of groaning, the Ravenclaw crawled out his hiding spot to meet his Head of House.

'How did you know I was there, professor?' Harry asked, as he thought it had been quite good, nobody had noticed his secret place yet.

'Do you really believe in me so little as to not know where my students are? For example, I know Ms Lovegood is being bullied by her peers. While I cannot do anything directly since they always disappear before I can discover their identities and punish them, I have tea with her every Sunday to discuss our weeks. She refuses to give up their identities, but I hope that the small reprieve helps.' He said all this with a large sigh, looking down in disappointment. 'I've known of your little hiding spot since you began staying here a month ago.'

Harry groaned, but a bit happy the professor hadn't bothered him. 'Well, what is it you wanted to speak to me about? I imagine it can't be very good, considering the conversation I overheard, and your current expression.'

Flitwick actually brightened up, and began with a cheerful tone. 'Well, I've noticed you've been practicing your dueling skills for the upcoming club, and i've been wanting to begin training you for the circuit. While it will take a few years to be ready for the official tournaments or even the Ravenclaw team, we can certainly set you on the right path. I have seen your potential both in and outside of class, and think you could really take on my mantle as Dueling Champion.'

Harry's eyes widened. This was an honour granted to very few students a generation, the chance to be taught by a world-renowned master in any subject. The professor's prowess had been commended multiple times and he'd won countless awards. To train under him would be an honour he couldn't miss. Especially since he saw him as taking up his mantle. He'd long since learned his Mother had been the man's apprentice, but neither had she had a chance to show off, nor had the Half-Goblin's stories ever referenced him considering her as his True Apprentice, the kind every Master takes and covets as the one to succeed them, which was also typically their last.

'I'd be incredibly grateful, sir, to learn under you! When can we start!?' The boy began jumping up and down, as a smirk graced his lips when he considered all the advantages this would produce. Dumbledore was great and all, but his skill was nothing compared to Flitwick's. If they battled, the Headmaster would win through power alone, though it was likely he really would.

Flitwick smiled at the boy's excitement. ' We shall begin every Saturday at 8 sharp after classes have ended, and will train for 2 hours. Seeing as tomorrow is Sunday, we will begin next week.'

With that, the Ravenclaw head left as Harry walked over to his book, still dazed.

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	16. Man or a Monster

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

As Harry and co. walked into the Great Hall for the commencement of the dueling club the next day, he immediately knew it would be a disaster. For some reason, Dumbledore had allowed Gilderoy Lockhart, the foolish professor, to head said club. If that wasn't bad enough, he allowed Snape to assist him, perhaps the most biased professor in the entire school. Considering the gryffindors were supposedly coming, according to Ronald, this would not end well. And once he saw the gleam in Severus's eye when those red-bannered Lions arrived, he just about left. But no, the practice would be good, and when he spotted Flitwick in the corner, hiding from sight, he breathed a sigh of relief. At the very least, it shouldn't get too out of hand with a professor both responsible and minimally biased present.

He and his friends walked toward the congregation of students centered in front of a large platform he recognised as standard dueling edition, as his magazines and books he had studied up on in preparation for his training explained. There he swiftly located Draco amongst the crowd, calling for the boy to join him. Truly, he had grown since that first encounter on the train. While not necessarily part of his inner circle, Harry was planning on introducing the idea to the rest, hoping they would agree. Perhaps, if they did, he could save him from Lucius Malfoy's influence. The Blacks had fallen enough, they needn't lose another member.

As Draco began walking towards him leaving his sycophants in confusion, Harry studied his surroundings for the best advantage he could get. Every single book had driven into his head that before he started anything, he needed to analyze for defensive strategies and exits. No matter where you were, nor if you were with your most trusted, anyone could be an enemy. And just in case a swift exit was needed, or some sort of territorial advantage, knowing one's surroundings could be the difference between Life and Death.

There were a few exits from the Great Hall, but even fewer were truly viable. The one to the Headmaster's study behind his chair would only leave him cornered, the same applied to the two exits towards the separate teachers lounges in the back, one for veterans. Towards the stairs might have been good, if not for the likely chances the opponent had some allies on that side. As long as he was small enough, he could push himself towards the owl windows at the top and squeeze through, though it would be more of a last ditch effort. The true, absolute best exit would likely be the secret door to the far left, which he had discovered purely by accident. While it would be sad he'd need to give up such an advantage, it was also perfect. Especially because it opened inward and could both lock, seal, and block the door once he was inside in only a minute. Once that was decided, Harry actually looked closer at the changes.

All the tables were gone from the Hall, out of harm's way in case someone tripped, a spell was casted at them, and to provide enough room. The ceiling was a pure black of the evening outside, a crescent moon just making it's way over the horizon as stars shined down. Candles and lamps were flying and lighting up the atmosphere, though there was a certain glow the Great Hall naturally made which allowed everybody to see as if it were mid-afternoon. The platform itself was a soft golden velvet that tickled his fingers, he even noticed it was the perfect height so Lockhart could look down on everybody.

The floor itself was a surprisingly soft stone, strong as it should be but when touched, allowed the person no pain. The entire area was littered with much smaller platforms that, should it be stood upon, let the subjects standing on it several feet even with outstretched arms. He noticed these were a pale silver, in contrast to the larger, golden one. He honestly even smirked a bit when he noticed it. Lockhart felt so superior, yet needed to prove it oh so subtly to this small grouping of 11 to 17 year olds, most of whom admired him.

'Welcome, Students!' He said, voice booming. 'This is the official Hogwarts Dueling Club first meeting! Please, welcome my assistant for today, Professor Severus Snaaapppeee!' Few clapped for the bitter man, and while Harry couldn't, when they locked eyes he made sure to send a supportive and happy smirk.

'Now, who can tell me the 2 basic rules of dueling!?' Almost every single young girl raised their hands, so many it was honestly sickening, especially when he smiled back. 'You there, tell them to me!'

Now, Harry was not one to follow orders, especially when he hadn't volunteered to do so in the first place. 'No!' He called back with equal joy, relishing in the laughter his mocking of the man had received.

'Uhhh, very well then, you there!' He salvaged the situation quite well, that had to be acknowledged. Considering he was a compeltely incompetent wizard, the lack of common sense and basic intelligence had to go somewhere. Apparently, it had decided to shake up with his showmanship.

'The three basic rules are: Always show respect to your opponent, even if he doesn't deserve it. Always be honourable in your attacks, 'He who strikes in the back, Holds company who would do so in turn.' The final rule of dueling is never underestimate or overestimate your opponent. 'For Hubris is the downfall of the Greatest of Men.'' It was some unnamed girl in the crowd, seeing as most of the males hated him.

'Yes, a succinct explanation only I could have done better on! Now, Severus and I here will perform a demonstration for all of you. And don't worry, you'll still have your potions professor back when we're done!' Harry noticed Ronald whispering in the ear of Seamus Finnegan, who grinned back. Draco was smiling in joy as he watched his favored professor get ready to destroy his most hated.

'On Three, One - Two - Three! Gildernum Lockhurtem!'

'Expelliarmus!'

Both men cast at the same time, though it was clear Snape had the advantage, since Arsehart hadn't actually cast a real spell. The idiot was shot across the room, slamming into the wall which appeared to nearly knock him unconscious. Unfortunately, he came to and managed to regain his bearings quickly.

'Yes, and excellent demonstration of the disarming charm, Severus! Though I will say it was dreadfully easy to know what you were going to do, and could have easily countered it. But I felt it prudent to show the students what such a spell could do!' The resident potions master was clearly incensed, and Harry was very glad he wasn't on the end of that. Especially after that display.

'Now, let us begin pairing you up for practice duels, simply wait for myself or Severus to arrive and give you a partner, we will be attempting to disarm our opponents only, first!' The incompetent Defense Professor walked off the platform, and began going around, giving the cutest girls an eye watering smile, which was absolutely stomach churning when he did so to even the eleven year olds. The Ravenclaw even thought that the cretin was staring down Susan Bones's shirt, which had him on the verge of hurling!

'Mmm… Yes, Weasley and Thomas, Granger and Greengrass, Fawley versus Goyle, Finally… Potter against Malfoy.' Snape's lip curled into an evil grin, though Harry saw some pity directed at Draco. He clearly knew how much Harry had trained.

Eventually, they got into formation, each on their own personal platform. Trip looked confident, whereas Hermione was angry, which happened to be an emotion shared by Daphne who glared at the other girl. Ronald seemed sure of himself, which Harry would take as his downfall, and Draco was hiding his nerves behind an arrogant smirk. Himself? Well, he was just staring out at his opponent, waiting for the call.

'Begin on three… two… one!' Everyone cast at once, sending various spells at each other. Harry simply called up a basic shield, preventing Draco from hitting him. Before he could actually cast anything though, the supposed teacher interrupted him.

'Enough, enough, I said disarm only! That's enough, Ms Bulstrode! *Sigh*, It seems we first have to demonstrate how to block spells first.' The man looked embarrassed, as Snape smirked at him. 'Very well, lets have… you, Mr Malfoy and Mr Potter, to demonstrate! Mr Potter here, managed to cast an excellent shield, not as well as my own, of course, but good nonetheless!' Flitwick was scowling in the corner at his audacity.

Gilderoy came up behind Harry, to whisper in his ear. 'Now, just cast that spell as before, and Mr Malfoy will cast the disarming curse. After that, we'll celebrate your victory!' He shivered in fear, as the two students got into position, wands at the ready.

'Now, Begin!' Just before he sent his attack, a glaze seemed to fall over them, as he suddenly changed his movements.

'Serpensortia!' Harry stepped back in his shock as a large snake appeared out of Malfoy's wand, neck raised and ready to attack. He looked back, hoping the teachers could salvage the situation, but they were frozen in fear. Just as it turned away and was about to attack another student, Justin Finch-Fletchley, he believed, he spoke.

_~Back away, leave the boy alone!~_ As it turned towards him, his Potions Professor came from behind and vanished it, quickly grabbing his arm and stepping out of the Hall, when he heard faint gasps of horror and even, perhaps, a scream of fear.

Harry was led to Severus's office, where they discussed the events, where he took a chance to look around. He'd only been here perhaps once, since their discussions and detentions typically occurred in the classroom, and what a fascinating yet grotesque sight it was.

Jars filled with some sort of gel and a creature's pickled limb filled wooden shelves, cracked, bent, and cracking from age, he thought they might be spruce. The stone walls that were associated with the dungeons were cold and unfeeling, as grey as he suspected the man in front of him's magic to be. Not a single poster hung on the wall, even a Slytherin one, and the door to his cupboard lied to his left, with several holes and suspiciously burnt spots.

The desk in front of him matched the shelves behind, a dark wood frayed by time, covered in documents and even a few jars. The cabinets behind him had dozens of boxes, whose purpose he could not discern. A fireplace stood to his far right, in the corner, with a small cup of floo powder lying next to it. He finally turned to the man he considered a mentor, and was currently shaking in hidden fright as he analyzed the boy in front of him.

'So… You're a Parslemouth.' Severus was the one to speak first, and Harry felt an odd sort of discomfort as his piercing stare seemed to judge him. It was incredibly unnerving, and made him want to crawl into a corner and die. Clearly, this was what Gryffindors felt in front of him, though this lacked hate and instead held cold disappointment.

'Y-yes, Professor. I-I didn't t-tell anybody b-because I was f-frightened of what t-they would d-do.' The man just continued analyzing the boy in front of him, seemingly searching for something that Harry didn't feel was there.

'Sit up straight, and talk with confidence. You're the Lord Potter-Black, you need to carry yourself as such.' He straightened his shoulder, held his chin higher as he stared right back at the man. 'This presents a problem. With the attacks going on, and it being suspected the heir of Slytherin, Parsletongue being a Slytherin family trait, everybody will suspect you and it does not bode well. There are dark times ahead, and I sense you will learn who your real friends are. Neither Flitwick, nor I will judge you, I suspect Hagrid will simply be overjoyed at being able to communicate with your Dragon through you, but any other teachers loyalties are up in the air. Students will turn on you. Just stay strong.'

Harry nodded, as he got up from his seat, a sense of foreboding beginning to haunt him as he made his way out of the office, heading towards Ravenclaw tower. He knew Hermione, Draco, Daphne, Luna, or Trip would betray never him, Ronald probably wouldn't, but he suspected others might begin painting him as evil. After all, you fear what you don't understand and with the attacks going on, everybody was bound to point their finger in the first available direction, even if it was clear they hadn't done it. That he was a Parslemouth would only cement it in many eyes. Everything was going so fast, and it was becoming harder to process all of it.

Soon, he reached the tower, ignoring everyone as he climbed up the stairs, slamming the door closed when he arrived, falling onto his bed and shutting the curtains, only managing to sleep after several tries. In the end, he supposed, these trials could only be helpful.

He hoped.

Harry had taken to sleeping in an abandoned classroom, different every night, to avoid the glares and hexes from the other students. Hufflepuff especially, had grown quite cruel. Cedric Diggory, a friend of Harry's from his first Quidditch game, though the season was cancelled soon after, had tried talking to the others. They had been going against each other, and rather than complain and insult Harry for his own loss, Cedric had taken it in stride, choosing to congratulate him on winning his first match, After that, they had become friends, and Cedric didn't believe he was the Heir of Slytherin, though despite being Seeker he wasn't much of a voice, solely rallying Susan Bones on his quest to prove Harry's innocence, though the Ravenclaw believed that wasn't entirely his doing, seeing as she blushed whenever he neared her, much like Ginny Weasley.

Really it was more annoying than helpful, but supposed this was his fault, after all, he was the one who apparently attracted girls. Shaking his head to clear the thoughts, he entered the bathroom connected to the office he had decided to use, showering and dealing with his morning ablutions. Throwing on a dark blue pullover after putting on the typical white button up and Ravenclaw tie, he readied himself for the typical day of constant hexes that came nowadays.

Unfortunately, the teachers couldn't assist since all the bullies had long since learned not to do it anywhere near their presence. The good thing was it had strengthened his reflexes, and now he could typically tell when and where a foe was, quickly cursing them before they got him. Though, it didn't stop them from getting at least one off, so he typically reached the empty classroom with a limp.

Entering the DADA classroom, with a large skeleton hanging in the air, portraits and photographs of a smiling Lockhart everywhere, which he was certain was designed as a torture device. Sitting at a three-student desk, Daphne and Trip arrived and joined him, as the Professor finally came out. After learning his lesson, which needed to be taught _twice, _He'd finally simply begun acting out his books, using Harry to demonstrate, much to the boy's ire.

His friends snickered as he dragged himself up, standing in place as Lockhart pretended to be a Yeti. He'd ignored everyone else, not prepared to face any of them yet. He only talked to Trip and Daphne, who'd shown real support. While a confrontation was inevitable, he could certainly put it off.

Every class passed by in a similar form, with the only true change being a teacher either pity-filled, ignorant, joyful, angry or just uncaring. He'd already lost Ravenclaw over 100 points from Sprouts path of vengeance, and some of his classmates had begun building some resentment for it, even though it was far from his own fault. She was as bad to him as Severus was to Gryffindors.

Reaching his target room, avoiding any students or Sprout via the Map, he entered, taking off his robes, transfiguring a bed, and laid down to sleep, pulling up all the sheets and pillows. WIth a deep yawn, he determined to deal with all the trouble tomorrow.

But for now, sleep.

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	17. Omens

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

_They say, in times of crisis, your true self is fully revealed. This is never truer than when your friends are challenged. Join and support you, or stay with the crowd. Most, unfortunately, will choose to betray you, for all seek the people's approval. Be wise, young one, and leave them. Broker no argument, do not raise your wand or fist, simply leave them behind as a blotch of ink on parchment._

_And when these times are over, you must consider these things. Will they have learned never to betray you again, or are they a risk for such an occurrence once more? If they are, and cannot overcome their weaknesses for you, then they are not true friends, and should be left behind._

_Some are too foolish to understand that even though one might have been by your side your entire existence, people are unique, they are different and, most importantly, people are cowards. We seek solely our own desires, and if anything stands in the way of that, the blockage will be overcome by force if necessary. There are few in this world who would put the desires of others above all else, and they are true gems. But no one can live that life forever, and they will crack. When they do, pray they will not find you._

_This is why I chose to teach the ancient arts of Dueling and Occlumency. To inform others the risks of being selfless, and how in the end it eats you from the inside. Our society will put plaques in their name, tell legends of how they became what they were. But should that target fail to die before the people lose interest, when they have no use for him/her, they will be demonized. They will be treated as nothing more than an old sock left out to dry with holes. It is enough to turn even the greatest man evil, to make the bravest and most honourable warrior turn their back on their morals._

_For each of us desires acceptance, and if that goal is not achieved, evil will spread. Anger leads to resentment, resentment festers to hate, and hate is the path to death. The most incorruptible human will tear apart entire cities if they were to be treated the way Wizarding Society treats its Heroes. So let this be a lesson to all of you, do not go with the sheep. Do not allow them to plow through your defences and throw you away like rubbish on a curb. Because if you let them, they shall make you into their perfect Dark Lord, for their next Hero to fight._

_I live by two quotes by two legendary men, and I urge you to memorize them. One: You either die a Hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the Villain. Two: The Road to Hell is paved with good intentions._

Harry read over the entry in a journal he'd found at one of the backshops of Knockturn alley, which he'd managed to visit over the summer, and agreed. It was sad, but truthful. A concise portrayal of the second most common downfall to anyone. Betrayal.

He sighed, and got up out of bed, leaving the soft comfort of the mattress and it's velvety sheets which he'd transfigured from several nearby chairs. Today would mark the day where he might learn who his friends are. The time had come to face the music, and he hoped he'd come out on the other side better for it. So he dressed himself, making sure to shower beforehand and brush his teeth thoroughly to prevent cavities, however unnecessary it might be in the wizarding world. When he finished, his breath smelled minty fresh.

Choosing to wear a dark emerald green sweater with gold highlights, the same dark black trousers and white undershirt, ravenclaw tie with robes lined in blue and bronze, he breathed in and out. Feeling for his wand in it's holster, the small combat knife he made sure to keep in his shoe, black sneakers today, he opened the door carefully, shtting it with narry a sound.

Going up the steps hesitantly, he reached the Ravenclaw tower, which was empty. Breathing a sigh of relief, he caressed the shelves, smirking as he thought of everyone's reaction. It wouldn't be fun, but finally, truly, he'd be able to see Draco for what the boy really is. If he cared about their friendship, or whether his jealousy and hypocrisy overruled the boy's better judgment. Chin held high, wand ready at the flick of his finger, he exited the room, taking note of Hedwig landing on his shoulder and Gracie's faint comforting thoughts.

The walk down the tower took ages as he finally arrived at the very bottom, reaching the great stairs. Still, it was deserted, no sign of life anywhere. Where was everybody? Probably in the Great Hall he noted, checking the time and seeing it was the middle of breakfast. Readying his shields he slowly went down the steps, past the 2nd floor where the message that would apparently sentence him to hatred by an entire school had been, and arrived on the first, passing the Transfiguration classroom to his left and onto his destination, two large oak doors wide open.

With one more internal beratement for his nervousness and a deep breath inward, the second year walked inside. As soon as he did, everything went silent. Not a word nor a breath heard as every face turned to him, some pity, some contempt, others hatred, most some degree of anger. Moving slowly, he arrived at the ravenclaw table, where Liz, Trip and Daphne sat, clearly fighting off their classmates so he could sit. Giving a polite smirk, he proceeded to sit and began serving himself, only to be incredibly surprised when none other than Luna jumped up and came over, sitting right beside him and began talking animatedly about how all the others had red and blue wrackspurts everywhere and not to worry.

Before he could begin speaking, Draconus and Ronald stood, moving over to him. His eyes widened when they forcefully shoved others away, sitting in front of him and began talking animatedly, occasionally asking him a question he either nodded to or shook his head at. He honestly thought that one of them might leave him, especially with the cold reaction he had from the rest of the hall, Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs hatred, Slytherin had jealousy and Ravenclaw was buried in contempt for the new ability.

As he turned towards the Staff table, he saw Dumbledore looking the situation over with analytical eyes, and when they crossed, he thought he almost saw a glare, before an immediate 180 to joy that wasn't fake, which really, really confused him. Snape raised a goblet, Hagrid waved, Flitwick gave him a small look of pity and comfort. Mcgonnagall seemed angry, thought not directed at him, Sprout was indifferent, and the rest of the teachers were cold. Honestly, the best reaction he could hope for. He had four, maybe five staff members on his side, whereas the rest could simply beat it.

Smiling, he took his seat. After all, it'd be a rough week, and he'd need his strength for the upcoming hexes. Seemed he'd be seeing Pomfrey a lot. Luckily, the woman had been a proper Slytherin, and was appreciative of him for having such an ability, and instead of being jealous questioned him on all the aspects of such when he had gone to visit her for a dreamless sleep potion after he'd woken in the middle of the night.

It was looking like a brighter future than he'd anticipated when he first arose that morning.

—-

Harry had been having a perfectly wonderful day. Mcgonagall was on his side, everybody seemed happy and he was content. But of course, it was Gryffindor that had to ruin it. He honestly had nothing wrong with the entire house, just a few select individuals. Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, Cormac McLaggen, and Angelina Johnson. The first two chose to be rude because of his Parselmouth abilities, calling him out for petrifying Colin Creevey. Harry was honestly confused; he'd never shown distaste at the boy, simply his annoying habit of carrying around his camera. So long as Creevey didn't have it with him, there could be amiable conversation to be had.

But they were easily ignored, so long as he stayed away. McLaggen actually sought him out, calling slurs and insulting him. Now, he could easily chop it up and wipe it away, but when he'd noticed the Ravenclaw had no reaction, he'd changed targets. The third year decided to hit on the various females around him, even going so far as to attempt to kiss Daphne. That had earned him a nice freezing spell to the undercarriage. It was beginning to get him angry, and just as he'd gone to tell the boy off, Draco and Trip had arrived in the Great Hall.

They had chosen to study together in the library, since Draco had been having a few issues with Transfiguration, and Harry found himself busy practicing a new charm to help the boy. Having mastered complete control over his shields, he'd become even more adept than his father at the subject, earning many points for his house, much to the boy's chagrin since they had chosen to spurn him, yet still benefited from his accomplishments. As such, he'd told every teacher who'd listen to simply praise him on it rather than give any points, which his six staff member allies had agreed to. When the two boys had come into the hall, the only word to describe them was disastrous.

Draco's naturally wavy hair, constantly combed and slicked back, was everywhere, blonde tangles in his face, slightly smoked. His fair skin was as white as a sheet, huffing from lack of breath, a scratch on his cheek and under the wisps of a future beard. His nose was crooked as if broken, and one of the boy's ears looked to have been torn in half vertically, but the attacker had stopped midway.

His acromantula silk robes, a sign of his wealth, were torn in many places, rips showing off cuts, some of which reached uncomfortably far. Draconus's arm was broken in several places, leg trailing behind him, knee bent at an awkward angle. Blood seeped from the pants leg. His piercing grey eyes were glazed over as if something bright had flashed, and the hand of his broken warm was mangled, several fingernails torn off from a fight.

Trip somehow looked worse, as if he had been fighting unconsciousness all day and was just about to give into it, light brown wavy hair spiked in a few areas, matted and almost covering his green eyes, one of which was sealed up and purple. They were a pale green with a ring of brown in the middle, but the colours weren't the mixed form Harry had heard described as hazel, so he assumed it was simply something unique about his fellow Ravenclaw, they almost looked like forests.

His arm looked about ready to fall off with how absolutely torn up it was, and both his legs were covered in cuts ranging from light to the point Harry thought he might have seen bone. Honestly, the only way he saw the boy actually managing to make it here was accidental magic or some deity stepping in for assistance. Trip's robes were soaked in blood, and Madam Pomfrey quickly rushed over, clearing the blood away from his pale face and stunning both boys, levitating them away. Harry looked up, and saw Dumbledore standing, a glare so powerful it easily told him why he was greatly considered the most powerful wizard of the age, magic radiating off him in waves as he addressed them all.

'**TO WHOMEVER DID THIS, THEY WILL BE FOUND AND EXPELLED. THERE IS NO TOLERANCE FOR SUCH VIOLENCE, AND IF THERE ARE ANY MORE ACCIDENTS, THE DMLE WILL BE INVOLVED IN TRACKING DOWN AND CHARGING THIS PERPETRATOR. IF YOU DO NOT TURN YOURSELF IN NOW, YOUR WAND WILL BE SNAPPED AND I WILL PERSONALLY MAKE SURE NO WIZARDING INSTITUTION ACCEPT YOU. HOGWARTS HALLOWED HALLS WILL NOT PROTECT YOU!' **The Headmasters rage was palpable, and Harry actually gulped in fear despite having nothing to actually do so about. When he looked around and saw McLaggen with his buddies, about ready to piss their pants, he immediately knew the culprits.

Time for some good old-fashioned revenge.

—-

The Hunter was on the lookout for his prey. Each one completely unsuspecting of the danger about to befall him. He'd had enough of them showing off, demonstrating not a bit of remorse for still being alive, and he'd grown tired of it. Their foolishness was about to be repaid in full.

Curving around the tall trees filled with old knowledge, soft patterned thread underfoot, he came across them. Sitting at an oak stump, each one laughed at having evaded being caught. But for no longer, for his life-string was about to be cut.

Stalking along the forest floor, amongst the brackens of splinters, his stick raised and ready to strike, he pounced, ready to destroy. Each of them was completely stunned, as he attacked, dodging their own barrage with inhuman flexibility, launching wings of pure gold that blew them away.

Leaping onto one, he tore into them, ensuring they would not wake up for some time, repeating the action with each one as he neared the last, the most valuable, and the most cowardly. For with no allies he was nothing, he knew. Into the forest he ran, a foolish move as the predator knew it inside and out, having journeyed there many times over his lifetime.

Finally, there was nothing in between them. Nothing to protect the prey as they breathed heavily, blonde hair disheveled and breathing deeply. Nothing escaped his grasp, never had, nor will it ever. The World was finite, and nobody could hide forever, especially not from the Beast.

His pack had been damaged, and the price was up. He neared his opponent, who was trembling in fear and a foul trench permeated the air from his disgusting behaviour, which caused the predator to wrinkle his nose, deciding to end the hunt and simply knocking the fool out.

—-

Harry levitated the four bodies into Dumbledore's office, who was having a meeting with the four House heads and the portraits. Everyone was stunned by his appearance, save Fawkes, who was a tiny chick on his metal perch, inside the bowl where Dumbledore had given him some food.

'Mr Potter, what is the meaning of this!' It was McGonnagall, not too surprising considering he had levitated in Gryffindors, hands on her hips in a disappointed manner.

'I've found the culprits for my friend's injuries, Madam.' He replied respectfully, knowing it was a dangerous situation. Trip and Draco had spent an entire night being healed, during which silencing spells had been apparently put up by the woman who couldn't handle their groans from the pain. While they had healed, it was clear they had grown somewhat more paranoid, looking over their backs and becoming as analytical about any room they entered as Harry.

'I-Well… I see. If you wouldn't mind staying, I suppose we ought to hear your side of the story.' Mcgonagall said this all while frowning, clearly conflicted as she took a step back.

Harry took a seat in one of Dumbledore's chairs, picking up Fawkes who trilled in happiness as Dumbledore looked upon him, unsure what to feel, Pride, Confusion or Disappointment. 'It started when I was walking through the library. You see, they had been harassing myself and my friends because they believed I was the Heir of Slytherin, and I immediately suspected they had been the assaulters. There, I found them sipping on some firewhiskey.' He produced the bottle from somewhere in his robes, 'And bragging about how they'd gotten away with the act. So I stunned them all, bringing them here immediately. Madam Pince can vouch for me, she assisted with the clean up.'

Snape looked upon him with a scowl, though his eyes held complete and unadulterated pride, though Sprout's gave none of that. Flitwick was happy, and even hugged the boy, who was surprised as Fawkes squawked and Dumbledore chuckled. Mcgonnagall was conflicted, wanting to stand up for her lions, but also wishing to be able to congratulate Harry on his revenge, whose mother and father were like her children.

'Thank you, Harry for bringing this to our attention. We shall go over it, but since it is a personal matter, I do hope you understand. Since it seems my Phoenix is quite taken with you, would you mind looking after him while I resolve this matter? I fear I will not have the energy to do both, I've grown quite old, as you can see.' Harry nodded in response, some pity for the old man who's stress was clearly getting to him, as most live to nearly 250, whilst he was only 140. Carrying the sleeping bird in his arms, he made his way out onto the grounds, skipping all the trick stairs and slippery rugs, to meet Hedwig.

His own familiar looked overjoyed for the chance to help watch over another of her kind, though Harry could feel the grief radiating from her at these thoughts. Fawkes was beginning to show his bright orange feathers, though they were very small plumes, a pink wrinkly body easily demonstrable. Most phoenix in this vulnerable stage would have slept in a small cave with the rest of their flock, who waited for them to regain flight before moving on. Since their joining with wizards, they had relied on their familiars to watch over them, who, as they grew older, began relying on the phoenix as much as the phoenix relied on them, since it garnered them strength.

Typically, it was enough to live their everyday lives and care for their bird, but as Dumbledore was bogged down with a great many responsibilities in an effort to stay relevant and assist as many as he could, it took too much strength for even the bond to help with. The Headmaster was growing old, that much was clear, and may die an early death if he didn't free himself of some of it. In response to fully learning this in observation, talks with the man and caring for his phoenix, which happened far too often, another reason why Dumbledore was so ready to let him care for Fawkes, Harry planned on convincing him to step down from at least one of his roles, and to rely more on his bird.

In the end, he left Fawkes with Hedwig and Gracie, who promised to look after him like he was their own child, and had begun a series of arguments that he only got one side of, speaking only parseltongue and not… what was it, bird-tongue? phoenix-tongue? Who knows.

He began walking towards Ravenclaw tower, slowly moving up the steps. He spotted Peeves setting up a prank not too far in front of him, cackling in glee. Though, it was the words that took him by surprise.

'This'll teach those little Gryffin-bums to mess with Harry Potter. Prankster Extraordinaire. King of Pranking. Why, he's caused more chaos than the Weasley twins, and they've been here a year longer!' His insane ramblings surprised Harry, as he didn't think he'd had that much of an impact. Though, as 'Heir of Slytherin' he supposed Peeves might have assumed he'd done the petrifactions, or perhaps simply being Harry Potter combined with being himself had stirred a silent uproar he hadn't been paying attention to.

Suppose it needed some looking into. For now, he wanted to go enjoy his tea and pureblood family book in the common room, Daphne, Trip, and Liz beside him. For now, all was well.

Until Justin Finch-Fletchley and Sir Nicholas were found, petrified on the stairs.

_If you've memorised my quotes, then keep this in mind: many a witch and wizard underestimate the power of friendship and love. Each one is a power of magic that few may ever comprehend, for life offers them both in mountains. Yet it is easy to determine one who does not live with either. That is because they are the most common to turn to the Dark. Every Dark witch or warlock has been denied Love, whether due to lack of reciprocation, or it is simply impossible._

_Gellert Grindelwald, one of the most feared Dark wizards of our time once attempted to have a true relationship with Albus Dumbledore, but because Wizarding Society shuns the powerful and ancient families who do not have children, his attempts were rebuffed. I do believe we all know the irony of this, as Lord Dumbledore was so in Love with Grindelwald, it broke the man to imprison him, as a result driving him to never seek out that emotion again, for fear and lack of interest. This is but one sad tale of many that occur in every generation, a strong bond broken because we all desire acceptance, or because we simply do not feel the same._

_The most terrible Dark Lord of all History, who's name we dare not utter for fear of his power, was also the most terrible case. Because of our rules he could not express himself to the fullest extent, as a result, one of the most powerful bloodlines was extinguished. The most terrible fact of all? This doesn't just occur out of same-sex relations. That would be a sad fact, but one we could overcome with time, and effort. No, it is because the parents do not approve of a choice, whether it be half-blood or Muggleborn, and as a result are spurned by their children for taking away their freedom of choice._

_We have long since learned of the repercussions of these actions, but how many lives could have been saved had we simply welcomed others to us? Had we not allowed our prejudice and greed overrule our common sense, and simply let others be who they are? Times have long since changed and evolved, but some in our society cling to the belief that this is the only way to survive, for arranged marriages to be the common and the disowning of the children that leave us._

_Andromeda Black, a pureblood heiress whose potential for powerful matches was unlimited, sent into the arms of a Muggleborn because her parents would not let her choose her own mate, was disowned. She then mothered a Metamorphmagus, one pureblood trait long since thought extinct, whose traces had disappeared long ago. But now they cannot claim the power of association, for they gave her up._

_And what of Harry Potter? The polar opposite to the girl's situation. His mother was welcomed into the family despite being Muggleborn, and as a result James Potter, Heir to the Most Ancient House of Potter, fathered a child whose Magical Potential is said to have exceeded the young missing Tom Riddle. Unfortunately, we cannot guarantee he will meet these because Dumbledore sought to remove him from Magical Society, possibly due to the own mistreatment he faced for his sexuality despite being a powerful pureblood. So what chance did Harry Potter stand, being one of the most powerful Warlocks ever born and being a Half-Blood? No matter he was their saviour; Pureblood extremists would have called for his head, likely murdered in his sleep._

_Nowadays Muggleborn and Half-Blood are tolerated, not accepted as many spought in their attempts of an argument. What does this mean for the future of our world? After all, the only reason Witches and Wizards will beat Muggles, sending them into extinction then moving past is by accepting others into their bloodline, otherwise we may face being killed off afterwards. Purebloods mingled with each other far too long, and it's showing. The most powerful of us are Half-Bloods, displaying the potential if both sides were to join._

_And so, In the End, I shall say this: Our fears will be faced if we do not learn control. Some day, maybe tomorrow, maybe in a Century, someone will rise up and say no more. When that day comes, you must look within yourself and see if you deserve to join them. If you do, then continue the many great lines of Warlocks and Witches far into the future. If you don't…._

_**Watch out.**_

**Read & Review Plz**


	18. Do You Realize?

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

Harry had decided to visit Daphne in the Great Hall this morning. After all, it was February 14th, St Valentine's Day, and the point of the year every person in the world woke up to romance, whether tearful joyousness, or depressing sadness. If they were to be wed, he hoped it would at least be a pleasant and friendly one, rather than that which was filled with politicking and coldness. He'd heard many horror stories of pureblood marriages from Trip, Ronald, and Draco, the last of whom used his own parents' marriage as an example.

Swiftly moving down the steps, cloak billowing behind him as he'd finally convinced Uncle Severus to teach him, he pulled out his wand. The one item which had been with him through thick and thin, aside from his invisibility cloak, had faced some serious beatings as he'd been practicing endlessly in the empty classrooms, since he'd nowhere else to really go. After the newest petrifactions, he had been lauded as all but an up and coming Dark Lord, which was merely a matter of time.

Mastering the Shield Charm silently had been one of the few things his Uncle had complimented him on, and he wore that with a badge of pride. Whilst there was encouragement to do the same wandlessley, he hadn't even begun his studies in that area as he was fearful. Already the school had turned against him because of his abilities, what if he accidentally showed off his power and they ostracised him once more? Not until he was absolutely certain and a little older, would he let the man teach him.

When Harry arrived at the Great Hall doors, he took in a deep breath. The confrontation with Ernie Macmillan, where he had been accused of being dark and the Heir of Slytherin. He attempted to hide the smug satisfaction that nobody was truly sure of the validity of the statement, evidenced by the nervous students around them, yet despite it all was true. The boy had even attempted to defend himself from his wrath by claiming he was a Pureblood! Who the hell would that stop!? I mean seriously, you insult someone and expect them to just ignore it because of some prejudices? Clearly the boy was a second year.

Stepping inside, he went straight towards the Ravenclaw table, passing Trip with a small smirk, and walked right up to Daphne, summoning three roses, a white, an ivory, and a pale pink one. Setting them down in front of her, he smirked softly before moving to exit the room. While there were a few scattered awws, most everyone just gave him a death glare. Unfortunately, before he could exit, the Blonde Poof appeared, with hot pink robes and a charming smile.

'Hello everyone, and may I just welcome you to the most wonderful time of year, Valentine's day! In celebration, I've hired a few dwarves,' He moved to the side and revealed a dozen rather ugly, long bearded and diaper wearing beings. 'If you do so wish, you may give them a valentines day poem or note, and have it sent to the person of whom you wish to appeal to, anonymously.' He smiled even brighter, as if priding himself on the genius of an idea. To Harry, it was anything but.

Despite his significant decrease of fame and rise in infamy, there were a great many females obsessed with him. He'd spotted Romilda Vane eyeing him several times, Luna had even given a slight sigh when he'd entered the room once, watching his movements, but the most disturbing one was Hermione. Susan was easily handled, he ignored her and hoped the crush disappeared, though there hadn't been any signs of stopping as of yet. But he relied on Hermione a surprising amount. She was his go to research machine, whenever he either felt too lazy or simply couldn't find the answer.

For now, they'd managed to avoid it, but like any schoolyard crush, it was likely to end badly. This only worsened things as the girl had found a surprising amount of courage building up to the day, and now he had to attend classes with these… _things_ following him. If anything, he felt pity for them, since they'd be embarrassing themselves in front of many people, even if they were getting paid. Suddenly, his trip to the Great Hall seemed like a bad idea.

Knowing he had to leave, He sprinted for the door, wand raised as he floated Mr Tufty out of the way, along with the Dwarves who looked more than happy to be out of the limelight. Sprinting away, he ran as fast as he could, eventually reaching an abandoned classroom and hiding inside, slamming the door and casting as many spells as he could. When his breath caught up to him, he looked around.

Overall it was quite sparse, with a bit of furniture occasionally placed, but the real eye catcher was the giant mirror in the room. It's beauty seemed to hold no bounds, as a silver encrusted frame held the most clean and clear piece, even more so than those that Petunia washed so obsessively. It's legs were ornate balls placed on pillars of profound gold, with the only sign of its age being grey encrusted letters at the top, almost as if withering away. Except when he looked closer, the decision for their addition was clearly a decorative choice, as they seemed as readable as the day they had been made.

Stepping forward onto a very, very soft carpet, he stood in front of it. There he was, wand in hand, black robes with ravenclaw trim, but an emerald pullover on top of a black button up, black trousers and the brown loafers ever-present on any adult man he'd ever seen. He was taller, older, and more regal, with a small new scar along his cheekbone, stubble instead of a beard or clean-shaven. Some distance beside him was on older Daphne who looked very much like her mother, but with her father's cold, icy blue eyes.

Behind them was his family, his and her parents, and some more people, one whom he saw shared his knobbly knees. Each side seemed to hold a different gathering, those that shared Daphne's traits and those that shared his. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered that they must all be their ancestors, but he was far too enraptured to pay that thought much attention. Off to their side, he spotted all his friends, Trip and Liz, Draconus and Astoria, surprisingly, Hermione and some unnamed face, which applied to Luna as well.

Dumbledore smiled at him, and he smirked right back. His presence in the mirror was not unwelcome, for despite all his failings and mistakes, he truly seemed to care for him, with a hand on his shoulder, pride shining in his eyes as it did Uncle Severus, and three other men, one shorter, rounder with buck teeth much like Hermione, one with long scraggly black hair and a warm grin that gave Harry sensations of happiness, and one who's hair was greying, thin and wearing too-old robes. Everyone he knew and cared about present, along with those he hadn't and would never meet. Neville with his parents, who he'd learned was his Godmother, were standing beside him and Daphne.

It brought a melancholic smirk to his face, and he sat down legs crossed, hands much like when he meditated with Uncle Severus, as the man had been teaching him Occlumency for the past few weeks. Whilst he may be a natural prodigy, all that potential was wasted if he didn't harness and perfect it, was driven into him by the potions professor. He agreed, and used the extra time when they were exhausted to go over everything that was happening.

He'd been truly grateful, bringing him more excitement than even the Headmasters lessons, surprising both the man and himself with a large hug, though neither regretted the action. Whilst pensive in fond thought of his teacher, he missed the arrival of another presence in the room. What he did notice however, was the cloaking of the mirror in front of him. Angry, he stood, raising his wand as he looked around with his superior eyesight, thinking quickly as he readied any strategy he could think of, and called out.

'Show yourself!' While knowing it was a rather ineffectual effort, to his pleasant surprise it was none other than Dumbledore himself, and he lowered his wand briefly, giving the old man a chance to explain his actions.

'That, my dear boy, was the Mirror of Erised. It shows your deepest wants and desires, the one thing you want most in this world. Your true Heart's Desire. Many a Wizard and Witch has been lost to its effects, and I do not wish for you to suffer the same fate.' Whilst looking apologetic, it was clear he did not regret his actions.

'I… I understand sir. But, I do have a request, if I may be so bold as to ask.'

'Go ahead, Harry, if I can answer it, then I shall do so to the best of my ability.' He appeared rather hesitant but aquisied, as Harry thought it over.

'What do you see? I know it is a rather personal question, but… I would never tell a soul. And I fear I may be selfish. So many have said that the best people are those who are truly selfless, and though it may be a bit of an exaggeration, you are consistently described as the greatest wizard out there. I would be willing to reciprocate.' In his eyes was the most vulnerability Albus had ever seen him present, and it knocked down his shields without really trying. In the end, he was already old, and this boy in front of him was more like a grandson than any other. He could have requested far more, and it would have been granted.

'I see everyone I love and have ever loved. Grindelwald, my partner before he turned evil. I had to watch his downfall as he tore himself apart because of what others thought. My Sister before she was killed by accidental magic and muggles. My parents, before they died. Even you, make an appearance. Having lived to a ripe old age, lived his best and loved his most. Nothing less than you deserve.' It brought tears to his eyes, and even Harry was not spared from the emotion thick in the Headmaster's voice.

'I see the same professor. Everyone I ever loved, all my friends, family, even those I do not know. What… what does it mean?' Naivety was obvious, but a darker emotion tainted it. Hate. Hate for whomever had left him without the family he desired. Dumbledore had made mistakes, but he had tried to protect him, keep everyone from suffering such a fate. It was just a sad fact he had failed. But Lord Voldemort will die for what he did.

'It means, Harry, that your desire is family. All it signifies is that one day you hope you'll have a real one. Perhaps you will. I swear it on Ariadne's grave that I shall make sure you have that future, even if I must kill Voldemort myself. But before I leave, I shall uncover the mirror once more. If you are to succeed in the future, willpower will be necessary. What better way than to learn to ignore your deepest desire? I simply hope you do not lose yourself in the impossible.' The Ravenclaw filed away the name Ariadne, and smirked at the headmaster, though with none of the joy that was supposed to be present in the young. It was merely morning and yet it was already proving to be a tear-filled day.

'Thank you sir.' The three simple words were said with such sincerity that the old man could do naught but nod. Yet as he moved to leave, he sensed the boy had more to say.

'If I may, you are still sixty years from the normal lifespan of a wizard. Your positions are causing you stress and to age, everyone can see that. I simply ask that you consider giving some up. For the sake of yourself, for the school, and for me.' The end was said in such a whisper that his ears had to strain in an attempt to catch it, and he simply nodded.

'I promise.'

Harry exited the room, thinking of everything the two wizards had gone over. The Headmaster had expressed his desire that he visit the room every night, and build up willpower to escape it's grasp. He needed to learn to control his desires so that when he was offered a chance to get everything he ever wanted, he could say no.

While it was wisdom at it's finest, there was still a bit of wariness. Dumbledore hadn't lied, but there wasn't complete truth. He suspected that the old man hadn't seen himself, as just like Severus, there seemed to be some degree of self-hate growing inside him. Had he himself not learned of his own issues and hopefully dealt with them, he had no doubt it would have been missed, just like the rest of the magical community had done so.

It was sad that even in such a mighty wizard there lied weak self-confidence because of society. The man who in the past ten years single-handedly brought out the changes in government necessary for Half-Bloods and Muggleborns to be on equal standing with Purebloods. Now the only discrimination truly present was among the oldest and darkest families, such as the Notts.

Eventually, after contemplating these things for far too long than he should, the Ravenclaw decided it was time to leave his pity-partying room and face the music. Carefully opening the solid, rough oak door, he left behind the Mirror of Erised, knowing that it was solely an eventuality he would return. Sneaking into the hallway, picking up his bag and opening the Marauder's map, he avoided all obstacles in his journey to the Charms classroom.

Once he'd climbed the overwhelming amount of stairs and ignored everyone attempting to talk, he pulled his cloak overhead where nobody could see. Having extricated an oath from all his friends that they'd not speak of it unless he gave explicit permission, simple so as to avoid any loopholes, the boy wanted to keep his heirloom a secret. Imagine all he could accomplish with an invisibility cloak! The power was unimaginable for a twelve year old, despite already having incredible potential. The Weasley Twins had given him some ideas for when he was older and he and Daphne were properly dating, but he'd simply blushed and ran away. No need to think of that yet.

Entering the Black Oak abode, he stared up at the ornate window in front of him. It was deceptively simple. One day when he'd visited Flitwick the teacher had taught him to detect very basic wards. While he was nowhere near the prodigy in that area as he was others, with an amazing teacher he was progressing quickly. Flitwick had been delighted to have such a dedicated student, which had contributed to Harry's selection as his apprentice, and expected the boy to be a Master by fifth year. The wards on the glass prevented any form of shattering, and could in fact break themselves, cutting apart any who dared attack it, repairing itself right afterwards. Apparently, both Flitwick, Babbling, and McGonagall had gone by every single one inside the Castle, applying it to all during the war.

Sitting down in his customary spot at the far edge away from the Professor at the highest tier, Hermione soon joined him. Harry had taken to showing her and the rest of his friends, including Draconus, Ronald, and Neville when they shared the class, how to perform the spell properly so they passed. Everyone's grades had improved significantly and several teachers had approached him for tutoring; Dumbledore himself had commended him on his skills during one of the practice sessions, and offered monetary compensation. While still considering it, he was severely motivated with the possibility of earning something himself.

'Hello, Harry, how is it going?' The standard greeting from his bushy-haired friend drew him from his thoughts as he thought over his response.

'Better, though I will admit I'm a bit terrified at the thought of a dwarf going after me. With any luck, people will be too scared of the 'Heir of Slytherin' to actually do anything'

As if summoned, a small gathering of three dwarves arrived, looking about. Quickly donning his cloak after ducking under the desk so only Hermione could see, he held his breath. Using his Occlumency skills, he crushed the urge to look out. Pulling down his book, he resolved himself to hiding until class began. Surely the damned cretins wouldn't be allowed to interrupt that time. Of course, knowing the Poof, it'd be in his orders for true dramatization.

When the bell resounded throughout the corridors, he pulled off the cloak, making sure nobody spotted it, and sitting upright in his seat. But as is his luck, he'd mistimed. Flitwick was only just entering the room, and the new banes of his existence spotted him, sprinting up the steps. Frightened, he just about pissed his pants as his fate seemed sealed. With Hermione as help to distract them as the rest of his friends were far too distracted by his sudden appearance and movements, he sprinted towards his professor, calling out behind him that he'd learn from the office as he slammed the door shut, casting as many locking charms he knew.

Thankfully, he and the professor had long since come to an arrangement at the start of the Parselmouth reveal, with a mirror set up at the far end so Harry could watch as the lesson progressed. Thankfully it was a practical day, and he performed the banishing charm on the dwarves, whose disgruntled looks were undermined by their diapers, angel wings, and heart-tipped arrows glued to pink bows. He laughed himself silly, closing the door once more when he noticed all the glares he received.

However, after accomplishing the spell, he decided to actually pay attention to Flitwick's traditional theory lecture at the end of every new charm learned, seeing as he'd not uncovered much about it in the library and he was interested. Also, there wasn't much to do in the office of the short professor. Said office was sparsely decorated, since each one had a private room.

It's furniture, with the exception of the chair and desk, was average sized, the occasional poster put up. One was of the Dastardly Darers, the local Dueling Circuit, and several commendations for incredible work. Behind His seat were his credentials; Mastery's in Charms, Runes and Arithmancy, Order of Merlin Third Class for war efforts, and a couple thank you notes from students he'd helped over the years, including one from his mother for apprenticing in Charms.

_Dear Master Flitwick,_

_Thank you so much! I've learned an incredible amount these past three years, and am so happy. I've even beaten James in several duels, despite having such a poor power level. His transfiguration simply seems to take far too long, and your teachings in speed and efficiency have long since paid off. I just can't offer enough thanks. It's even helped in the war effort; I've dueled and defeated so many death eaters just by your advice. In the end, You've been such a great teacher. I hope your true apprentice realises how much you can help them._

_Love,_

_Lily Potter_

Harry's eyes widened. This was his own mother's handwriting! He reached out, and touched the glass case, analyzing every detail. It was simple yet elegant, demonstrating the natural grace most women seemed to hold over men, with a distinct thinness that had him stumped. He'd never managed to keep his own word very small, even with a muggle tool. While his penmanship had long since improved under the seemingly endless nights Uncle Severus had him under, it could hardly be compared to this! He resolved himself to try harder in his lessons.

Eventually, he looked towards the mirror, and saw that class was over. Pulling on his cloak, which his favored professors had long since learned of and chosen to tale the oath themselves, he headed towards Transfiguration, since skipping tea seemed to be the best option. Carefully opening the office, he slipped a hand out and waved to Flitwick after noting it's emptiness, and stepped into the corridors, so filled with students he easily slipped inside, lying with his back to the wall so as to avoid the possibility of running into someone.

When class began, he made sure that Mcgonagall knew his desire to hide, slipping into her office. This one was prim and proper, with gryffindor colours decorating the walls, a brown rug floor under him. This one was much more filled than Flitwick's, likely since she was also deputy headmistress. It had a few cupboards, and many muggle file cabinets, each one charmed to keep students out. Easily breaking the lock with an overpowered locking charm that left him breathless, would only last for a few minutes and likely only the other professors could replicate, he slipped open the one on second years. After all, why couldn't he look at his own records?

Inside, he learned he'd managed an Outstanding with commendations from every practical class. The only subject missing was HOM, but that was likely because Binns was far too lazy and never graded anything he gave out. Deciding to look at potions since he was most curious at Uncle Severus's opinion, it gave him a big surprise.

The man had complimented his competence, and even mentioned that he'd managed to keep those who'd otherwise fail, like Neville, from being a disaster. His brewing skills were far above average, and recommended him for a tutor. Groaning, he placed it back inside, knowing he'd have to answer soon enough. The Charms, Transfiguration and Astronomy professors all held the same opinion, and he finally decided to open Herbology. After all, the professor seemed to have some sort of vendetta against him lately.

The start of the year held an incredible amount of praise, surprising since it was not his strongest subject, with an O he attributed to Neville's assistance and the Dursley's gardening. But later on they began to diminish after the reveal, and nowadays they held hardly a single compliment, solely placing on an O and rare Exceeds Expectations, which he decided was likely simply because she refused to grade completely fairly.

Putting it back, he looked over to the class. Torn, he steeled himself, pulled out a rock and transfigured it into the toad necessary, and ran back, opening the overall class rankings. Breathing a sigh of relief, he saw he'd been placed first despite Sprout's hatred, Hermione placed second, Trip Third, Neville and Daphne sixteenth and sixth respectively, Ronald and Draco shared twentieth, Blaise Zabini was tenth, and Padma Patil was fourth. Overall, out of his somewhat limited group, they held four of the top spots, and a few decent ones. With any luck, Daphne could beat Padma, who had held a grudge against the girl for a while since she'd apparently 'beaten' the Ravenclaw in winning over his affections, with a bit of tutoring.

Sighing, he placed the folder back, and noticed class was about over. At that point, the cabinet slammed shut, his unlocking charm only managing to last until the ward was back up to its full power. Only Dumbledore and, perhaps, Voldemort could break it open permanently. It was probably warded by generations of Deputy's, so even that was open to debate.

Just as he was about to leave, he noticed a basket labeled **Confiscated Items**, and being the curious kid he was, trudged over. Mcgonagall was due any minute. Seeing an interesting journal with no name, he opened it. Nothing. Empty. So why had she seen fit to hide it? Deciding quickly, he ignored the book, figuring it was a prank by someone who'd been caught.

After all, what harm could such an innocent object do?

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	19. Vendetta

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

Magic radiated off him. His teeth clenched, fists at his sides, jaw tightened. His eyes were swirling pools of fiery emerald green. Robes torn and goblets floating as he entered the Great Hall. Raising his hand, the offenders went into the air from accidental magic unleashed from his whirlwind of moods, holding their necks as his emotions blinded him. They deserved this. Deserved his punishment. Swiping his arm to the side, his chosen crumpled to the ground, gasping for air they did not earn.

Stomping up to the large table at the front, his steely glare fixed on Dumbledore's faltering smile, twinkle gone as he turned carefully to the man's left. Raising his wand, gone was the boy who had looked upon him in curiosity. Here, here, was a slighted man, one who'd been hurt through someone he cared about and wanted, no, needed revenge. But that would not lead anywhere pleasant. The Headmaster stood, his Deputy joining him as they attempted to stun the young boy.

To their surprise and horror, it never touched him as his rage met with the Charms Professor, and with a simple flick of his apprentice's wand, a formal duel was announced. Leaving nobody a chance to process all that had begun, the one he'd looked upon as a son began casting. Speed and experience were on his side, but they only compensated so much. The power was deafening, swirling around the boy as mercy was not had, and a barrier erected, more to prevent the professor from escaping than someone interfering.

With a swipe of his wand, Flitwick's was stolen, and everybody couldn't believe the sight as Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Light's Champion, Dumbledore's Apprentice, Heir of Slytherin, raised his wand, hand steady, towards his foe, bringing the older man to him in fury and pain.

'Harry, please, stop! Now! I beg of you!' Severus Snape, the one who bowed to naught but the two mightiest men, called out to him, begging the boy he'd been an Uncle to, not to continue in this course of action. It'd destroy him forever, and Severus could not let that happen.

'But they hurt her! He deserves this! He let it happen!' Tears flowed down his cheeks as darkness clouded his eyes, remembering her injuries. He looked upon the broken man beside him, trying desperately to keep from tearing himself apart. But as he looked upon Flitwick once more, he finally decided what to do.

1 Hour Earlier-

Daphne Greengrass was walking down the corridor, mind clouded as she thought upon recent events. Her betrothed, Harry Potter, the one she held a crush upon and was so happy when it had been announced they were to be wed, was a Pariah.

Few dared to go near him, as only his closest friends stayed. Despite Draconus and Ronald attempting to befriend him lately, she'd been surprised when they took his side. Both seemed to prefer the spotlight, and Harry took it away from them. She supposed that was because they had been learning true loyalty.

His power had been intoxicating lately, as he was on the verge of breaking. She longed for the day he'd finally give in and just be himself, rather than bottle it all up and let the fools hurt him. He didn't deserve that, nobody deserved that. Daphne surmised it would merely take a few more insults before he began hurling hexes at all those around him.

She thought back to his appearance. Tall, ordered, and untamable black hair, with an athletic body that she imagined had become of several morning runs, and watching his diet, to a certain degree. Square glasses that helped illuminate his eyes, yet holding back a shine that would intimidate the most powerful. And a darkness that had been growing steadily ever since the school's betrayal and claiming of his Lordships.

She walked up the steps of the dungeon, and met with the others. Blushing lightly at Harry's appearance, she simply held her books tighter and they moved to their next class, Herbology. They'd been working on Mandrakes, and they were nearly ready for harvest and use in the potions to reverse the petrifactions. They were held in greenhouse 3, and she enjoyed it. There was a reason her family were named Greengrass, their ancestors had been very successful gardeners, as such they seemed to have an affinity for plants.

As they entered the glass construct, with a long bench centered in the middle with several pots dug into the thick wood for plants, and smaller ones along the sides to sit. The sun shined through, almost blinding for a second, and it was quite warm since the cold air was kept out. She levitated the fertilizer and tools needed, sitting down with Liz as they began repotting their Mandrake, everyone's earmuffs on.

As such, she missed when Sprout took away the plant from Harry, reprimanded him and took 50 points. The Ravenclaw glared, but just got up and left, bag in hand. Trip was confused though, questioning what he was supposed to do. The Professor immediately softened and handed him the mandrake, which he began repotting, still unsure as to why Harry had been forced to leave, since he'd been unable to hear the conversation.

Overall it had been a good half-hour, and as they left early, Daphne went looking for her crush as Liz and Trip repacked and put everything away, telling her to catch up with the boy and talk him down. So she was climbing the steps to Ravenclaw Tower, answering the simple riddle and walking along the carpeted floor. He was brooding in a corner, seemingly repeating a mantra. Smiling, she decided he needed a good awakening.

'I, am Harry Potermius. I survived the Dursleys, Killed Quirinus Quirrell, Became an Animagus, raised a Dragon and Phoenix from their birth, I-'

'Became the Heir of Slytherin and petrified several students.' Suddenly, Daphne felt fear wash over her as he turned towards her, seemingly ready to kill. But when he saw it was her, his eyes widened and he stood, quickly sprinting away as she was stunned by his reaction. Racing after him, she came to a complete stop at the sight before her.

Luna Lovegood, a bloodied mess who she only believed to be breathing from the faint rise and fall of her chest. Her nose was dripping, twisted at an odd angle and broken, hair missing patches, robes torn, arms broken and leg twisted forward. She was in a far worse state than Trip and Draconus when they had been attacked, which she attributed to them actually having the ability to defend themselves and constant vigilance.

She had a black eye, was missing a tooth which lay on the ground some distance away and a large gash was present on her side, demonstrating her muscle gained from skipping. Daphne cried as Harry fell to his knees, carefully picking her up. His magic was suffocating and she just about choked, as the boy began his trek to the Hospital Wing at a pace she couldn't fathom; Fast enough to prevent her from keeping up, but slow enough it didn't injure the girl in his arms any more.

'Mr Potter, what's happ- Oh my! Quickly, onto the bed! Grab blood replenishing potions and skele-gro! Now!' The Matron yelled as she looked over her ward, casting diagnostic charms 3 a second, doing her absolute best to heal the girl. Harry had long since sprinted to the cabinet as Daphne stood there in horror, unable to figure out what to do. It was horrible, gruesome, and she knew the perpetrators would wish for death.

While not exactly close to Lovegood, the girl had always seemed cheerful and upbeat, if not a little strange. But this… this was disgusting. Who would do that to a little girl, and likely simply because she stood by her friend!? She watched as Harry looked into Luna's eyes, who'd woken up, crying in pain and terror as she tried desperately to keep her friend from learning the identity of her assaulters, to prevent his revenge. But he'd not be deterred, and, once satisfied, Daphne could sweat the very air vibrated with power.

This… It was what she both longed for, and feared beyond belief. Harry Poterimus-Black, unleashed. It squeezed her and eyes widened from her and the other two occupants as they realised, if this was him now, what did that mean for the future? Suddenly, she was incredibly grateful he wasn't her enemy, for he was like a God and her an ant, nothing worth even looking at.

He stormed from the room and after sharing quick glances, seeing Pomfrey had Luna handled, she tip-toed out, walking slowly as Harry's pace far outmatched hers, walking to the Great Hall.

—-

Dropping the professor, he took the earned victory, cutting the barrier and summoned his chosen, taking their wands and snapping them. He looked into their eyes, torturing their minds with the worst memories he could imagine, their sanity on the verge of snapping when a warm hand rested on his shoulder.

Releasing his hold, he turned back to the owner of the hand, and saw Dumbledore. The Headmaster was an aged wizard, that much was clear more now than before, as he looked down with apprehension, fear, slight pride, and hope. Harry nodded to the man, resheathed his wand, and acquiesced to his request, lowering his head, and apologising to Flitwick for his outburst. To his surprise, the professor laughed.

'Oh, Mr Potter, do not apologise! It is I who must do so, I never really could do much for Ms Lovegood, but now I can expel these fools! Thank you. I do hope our meeting this Saturday will go on?' He nodded quietly as Flitwick levitated the perpetrators away while Dumbledore spoke to the stunned Hall.

'I warned you of what such behaviours would bring, and it seems some of you chose to ignore this. I did this not for you, but for the vengeance Mr Potter would bring. Let this be a warning to you all, do not attack one through their friends. Because you may just see that they'll come for you with a power far too great to ever believe. Revenge is a tremendous motivator. Now, go off to class!' There was no warmth held in his voice as he spoke, even a slight frostiness had made it's way in as he hurried off to see Luna, bright purple robes trailing behind him.

—-

It was when the congo line of spiders were leaving through the ceiling that Harry knew something was wrong. They were as much a part of the castle as the floor and the walls, always found somewhere, under desks, on your socks. Yet he'd noticed quite quickly Hogwarts was slowly growing devoid of them, and it disturbed him. They had been among his only friends when he was younger, and if something was scaring them, those which brought fear in the most terrible of humans, he knew whatever was causing the petrifactions was not any wizard or witch.

So the obvious and most immediate place to travel was the library. While it was far from perfect as he hardly had access to the truly dark books, which didn't even dive very deep into the most interesting areas, it was a start. He needed to find out what sort of creature could cause petrifactions, scare spiders and was something Salazar Slytherin would be interested in. The most obvious answer would be some form of snake.

With this figured out, he asked for and received permission to enter the Restricted section under the guise of dueling spells. He only got one shot at this, since otherwise they'd figure out that he really wasn't going there for more spells(As his repertoire would have increased more obviously) so he decided once he had an idea of what he wanted, he would look. Once looking through the dusty shelves in the dark section that created the perfect atmosphere for evil, he slid his fingertips along as he glazed over each title. None of them seemed remotely interesting, nor helpful.

It was on the third to last bookcase he found what he was looking for. Just about to give up, there was a title that read 'Evil Beasts and how to Avoid Them' by Marcus Scamander, the famous Newt's nephew. While it detailed several species, only a few caught his eye. Most notably, the Acromantula, the Naga, Basilisk, and Icelandic Iceater.

'_The Acromantula is a truly deadly beast, originating from the congo. It is a Giant Spider, with eight hairy legs, six glowing red eyes and a large hairy body. It's fangs drip with poison that it pierces the victims caught in it's mandibles with. I've personally witnessed several deaths at their hands, and note that there are few weak points. Blinding it is useless, due to the fact they can only see through two of them and it is impossible to guess which, added onto the fact that they naturally grow blind and have long since developed defences against this._

_When attacking such a dangerous creature, three things must be kept in mind. The first- They are sentient, and the very oldest may even speak. If you are careful, you might even escape a lair unharmed, though this has only occurred twice in their entire existence, and solely by promising to provide it more food. The second- It's weak points are solely the connecting area of the thorax and head, as well as the joints in the legs._

_The final piece of advice- Never enter a nest if it can be avoided. To destroy even one requires a well practiced wizard, and should it be at its prime, it might take five powerful witches or wizards to kill it. The only creature it fears is the Basilisk, for a feud long written of occurred, nearly wiping them out. Of course, thanks to an evil ritual their sole competitors were slain, and they thrive more than ever nowadays.'_

'_The Naga is fearsome and dangerous, told in stories for millenium. While the Acromantula appeared solely 10,000 years ago and insulated until bred by Homo Magi, the Naga is found all around the world, from Norway and the Vikings World Serpent, Africa, from whence it derived its name. The power is well-categorized, and the older, the more dangerous._

_Holding a deadly stare, it will kill with merely a glance of an eye, and many who've sought infamy have fallen to it's glare. The Naga wields fire-breath, sharing this trait solely with the Dragon to whom it is believed to share a common ancestor. The fire it breathes has been said to melt metals, be faster than Elder Fire, and more potent than Fiendfyre._

_The final weapon in its arsenal, with the exception of unbreakable scales, is a large stinger at the end of its tail. With a lack of fangs and venom, it appears to have been compensated with poison, who's power and deadlines have been compared to the Basilisk's own venom. My sole recommendation is to keep away from any possible lair, despite having said to have died out several hundred years ago, there might be stragglers left, though if there are, all they do is prevent the inevitable extinction. The Naga is far too dangerous to let live.'_

'_The Basilisk is by far the most powerful snake to have ever lived. It's stared needs but a glimpse of the edge of an eye, with fangs longer than a grown man and venom so potent it's only possible remedy is Phoenix Tears, though it is so fast-acting there was never been a true test, due to the fact the patient dies before it might be administered._

_But none of these compare to it's most incredible asset- unlimited growth. The oldest recorded Basilisk was two thousand years old, at an astounding hundred and forty meters. The most fascinating fact is that it hadn't finished growing. It is unknown if it may ever have a full size, though it is theorized due to the nature of its creation and very unstable magic, the Basilisk has no full size._

_The thought goes that if you were to place The King Of Snakes, as it is well known, in a room for eternity, it would eventually break out of the room, and simply continue in it's growth. Some even believe it is the cause of the World-Serpent legends, rather than the Naga. That at one time it was bred, and grew to such a size it encircled the entire world. If this is true, we just hope it's dead, for that would mean it has likely become large enough to swallow the Earth whole. And with the real Thor dead, it is not an exciting prospect._

_In the end, however, the Basilisk may be the most and yet least dangerous species on this list. For unlike all the others, it might be tamed. Should you somehow gain possession of an egg and hatch it, a companion with no match will be born, whose loyalty must never be questioned and would die for it's master, with it's impenetrable scales by even the Killing Curse making such a prospect near impossible. Some even believe it might pass on it's loyalty to the wizards line, while others believe once it's master has fallen, it shall do so as well. None have ever been recorded long enough to test the accuracies.'_

'_If there is any creature alive or dead you must avoid, it is the Icelandic Iceater. It will hunt down humans if slighted, and none have ever been seen in the flesh. The size is said to rival a mountain, and so long as not disturbed, it will be a near-docile creature. The issue being, if your eyes hold even the slightest hint evil in it's presence, the beast will kill you. As a result, no one has ever been near one, viewed it's form and lived, especially with it's unique ability to apparate, once thought to only be found in Homo Magi._

_For finality, with near-no information truly recorded, nothing more may be said.'_

Harry slammed the book shut, considering each one. The Acromantula was out, only used as an idea for what might frighten some of the oldest species in existence. The Ice eater was without a doubt not it, as the creature supposedly ate it's victims, and was far too large to exist in the castle. All that left was the Naga and the Basilisk.

The creature in the castle might be a remnant of the once great Naga empire, housed and kept safe by Slytherin, which also happened to apply to the Basilisk, who had also been devastated to likely extinction. The most glaring issue was that each was thought completely wiped out. Causing petrification was easy- nobody had ever experimented on their glare, so who could say what effect it might have on someone, indirect, not looking on purpose, etc.

For now, he decided there were too many variables and not enough evidence. It was at this point either Naga or Basilisk, and he really wasn't sure. He needed sleep, and could think this over in the morning. So walking into a new abandoned classroom, he transfigured everything and slept in the most comfy bed so far.

—-

As Harry entered Flitwick's classroom for dueling, the changes were immediately noticeable. Desks were pressed against the wall as a platform stood at the center. He walked up, and immdeiately ducked as a spell flew over his head. Turning around, he began casting curses, unleashing his least harmful, fastest, yet also most varied hexes, before his wand flew from his hand.

The last time he'd beaten the short professor was when his blind rage controlled him, here it was just calm and focused, which while useful when skilled and experienced, did nothing for the novice that his anger did. Power flew through him in those moments. So, admitting his defeat, he bowed to the half-goblin, who began to speak.

'Dueling is an ancient art form, dating back to the Greeks. The ability to test one's skill, knowledge and power against another was an exciting prospect. As times went by, it continued, growing in infamy and prestige. By the time of the 1800's, to be a dueling champion was what Dumbledore is now. Unfortunately, the Witch Hunts began.

Many say that none were killed, but that is foolish. They simply want to believe we are infallible, when in fact our power and hubris make us even more vulnerable. It reduced our population severely, which only lessened even more after the War with Grindelwald. Of course, you know that it then quickly picked up speed once more, at an incredible rate, but I digress.' The professor took a second to catch his breath, and Harry looked him over. The man's robes were small, and tight against his body, presumably for greater mobility. His glasses were missing, and his appearance screamed skilled wizard.

'With these deaths, a large amount of knowledge was lost of many aspects of magic we are only rediscovering now. Dueling is rising again, but for a long time they were pariahs as those strengths did not correspond well with muggles, as such they had to run away more than not, which resulted in even more death. You are here to learn from my skill and experience, to become a new Dueling Champion. To help the title regain its infamy. So every saturday at six, we will train for four hours non-stop until you can defeat me.' He paused, and looked at Harry in the eyes, making sure the boy was serious about pursuing this.

'You did wonderfully for your first duel. But you must understand something. I have taken you as my True Apprentice, my last. There can be no tomfoolery, and you must be strong. I've selected you because I see potential that must not be squandered, and believe one day you will surpass Albus Dumbldore, Tom Riddle, Voldemort, and Sheev Palpatine. So ready yourself, and if you cannot take this, walk out that door right now. Don't make me waste my time because you are unwilling to work hard.' He pointed towards the door, which the boy didn't even glance at, staring into his professor's eyes with all his might, and taking a great sigh, the man smiled, Harry smirked, as they began.

—-

Hermione was petrified. Penelope Clearwater as well, but that didn't matter. Not right now. Any other time, he might have grieved for the girl, such a promising mind frozen until the mandrakes restoration draughts were finished, but his friend had been frozen. Probably his best friend, the one who knew him the best, could read his emotions, as they spent so much time in the library studying together. A deep-seeded rage filled him, as he knew what he had to do.

Unleashing his wand, he walked up to the second floor where the messages had been written. Entering Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, he steeled himself. It had to be connected to the diary, why else had someone stolen it from McGonagall's office, as he had overheard? Everyone knew not to mess with him, so clearly it was a fool who didn't realize what they had just done.

'Myrtle? How did you die?' He looked the girl in the eyes, whom he had met at the Deathday party and occasionally visited, with no humor held. Unfortunately, the girl began crying.

'Oh, thank you! Thank you so much! Nobody has ever asked how I died!' The ghost wailed, and Harry looked uncomfortable. He had no idea what to do.

'Please, Myrtle, just tell me how you died.'

'Oh, thank you so much! I-I was over in that stall, this mean girl, Olive, had insulted me, and I was crying. I heard a voice in the bathroom, it sounded like a boy, so I went to tell him off, he was talking in this weird hissy language, you see, and I opened the stall door, and died. I was just dead.' She looked entertained to finally say this, and the other Ravenclaw in the room thought it over.

'Where did you look?' Myrtle pointed towards the sinks, and he quickly walked around them, looking for some sign of Slytherin, inspecting every detail.

After his fifth lap, he saw a small marking on the side, so minuscule only the most detail oriented person could have seen it. Hell, it might have taken Hermione days to discover it. As he studied the inscription, he whispered to himself, _~How do you open, damnit!?~_. When it suddenly pulled back, he was surprised. Heck, the boy hadn't even noticed that he'd spoken Parseltongue until he was finished. Looking down the tunnel, he gulped, this may be his last journey ever.

Steeling himself, Harry raised his wand, casting the light charm, jumped and slid down the tunnel.

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	20. A Storm is Coming

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

'Ugh, what the hell kind of tunnel is this!?' His slide down the pipe had been unpleasant, to say the least. Harry had been covered in slime and grime when he'd come out, only to land in a floor of animal bones. They littered the stone, so not even an inch was visible. He had even noticed some had still-rotting meat hanging off, which had been a nasty surprise when his arse was sticky with cold blood.

Waving his wand with a quick swipe, the dirt and dust was cleaned, but he still felt a bit dirty. Chalking it up to the overall atmosphere of the dank tunnel, he moved on, vanishing a path forwards. He looked around, with very little of note, though small inscriptions were driven into the wall. Deciding to check it out later, he moved on, noticing the deeper he got, the more light started appearing. The source of it came into focus as torches were encased in their sconces along the wall, leading to a large doorway.

The Ravenclaw nearly jumped out of his skin as a large coil of scales, like green pebbles running along a path, appeared in front of him, and he delicately reached a hand out, closing his eyes just in case. When he failed to feel the tell-tale hum of magic that came from such magical creatures, he opened his eyes, noticing it was just shed skin. Cutting off some, which required a bit of power as despite being cut off from the core center that caused the magic-resilience, it still held some strong piece that might take thousands of years to dissipate, he pocketed it and moved towards the large door.

It much resembled that which you would see on a vault, with a large round shape but instead of the wheel handle, it had snakes that seemed to grow from the hinge like parasites, sealing it. They almost seemed alive, eyes following him as he moved. The stone was near-black, with a light simmer of emerald when he shined his wand closely. The snakes had red gems for eyes, and he shivered when they shined in his light, faintly resembling eyes as light circular carvings made out the iris and pupil.

Remembering the original doorway, he hissed _~Open~_. Stepping back, he coughed as a cloud of dust blew in, and he stepped forward once it finished. It was a grand chamber, as the name suggested, with waterfalls pouring in from holes, grand stone snakes in between each one, eyes the same glittering red jewels as those on the door, and torches above each waterfall. The floor was made up on black bricks, and the ceiling resembled that of a cave, but clearly was kept cleared as while it stayed the same circular shape, there were no stalactites. Everything eventually came to focus on the far side, where everything was made of the same dark bricks as the floor, with the exception of the light gray of the face, which resembled those of the pictures he'd seen of the founder.

Walking inward, he noticed Ginny on the far side, walking over and glancing around. Keeping hold of his wand, he spotted any exits. While the underground chamber looked secure, he noticed several possible ways. A small snake insignia that did not match the other side suggested an exit on a wall the path led to, with a last hope of blasting open one of the potholes with as much magic as he could and swimming up. Turning to the girl next to him, he looked her over.

She was grasping the Diary from McGonagall's office, red hair making a curtain that was soaked, as the crashing waves that made a treacherous crossing to Slytherin's head, the only way seemed to be a stone drawbridge, spared upon both of them. She was shivering from cold, but there were no other signs of life save for the faint heaving of her chest. Everything else suggested she was dead, and the pale skin did not help.

'She won't wake.' A voice came from behind him, and he turned to see a boy, mid-teens, with Ginny's wand in hand. His hair was a perfect deep brown, handsome brown eyes looking from under the fringe, a strong jaw and high cheekbones very similar to Harry's own, a thin but strong figure with fair skin.

'Who are you!?' Harry spat out, fists clenched that he'd dare hurt Ronald's sister, an eleven year old girl.

'I'm Tom Riddle.' His fists clenched at that, but released as he continued. 'And I didn't do this to her. She did it herself when the girl decided to pour her heart out to me. Oh yes, I'm nice, comforting Tom, there to help whenever she was feeling sad, slowly leeching off the energy she gave. Ginevra Weasley told me all about you, and her life. From her nervousness seeing William go off on the Express, to her overbearing and disgusting mother, even you.' The boy paused here, clearly searching for his next words,

'Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the one who conquered the Dark Lord, and her hero.' If there was ever a chance of Harry dating Ginevra, they died with those words. Fan girls were disgusting, even if she was Roanld's sister, and none were worthy of dating. But he resolved to find her a new man.

'I want to know, how did you defeat Voldemort that night, how did you stop him?' His eyes almost seemed hungry, as he just about begged for the information, palming the wand in hand. 'He was supposed to be all-powerful, yet fell to a young boy. How did you stop him!?'

'I did not. I do not remember that night, so I've no idea what happened, or who accomplished anything. All I know is that I was a baby. And why do you talk about Voldemort like you know him?' Harry said, going out of breath by the end.

'Voldemort is my past, present and future, forever. Because, I am Lord Voldemort.' He used his wands to spell his name in fire, which the Ravenclaw snorted at, and flipped them around, the form the anagram I AM LORD VOLDEMORT. He no longer had a smile on his face.

'But… How? How di-' He was cut off, as suddenly Riddle spoke, clearly and deeply, with true passion.

'It does not matter how Harry, all that matters is that it's done. Imagine what we could do, you, me and Trip! We could be Gods, far above those the petty Muggles worship! We'd be waiting on hand and foot, wealth beyond our wildest dreams! I know what you want, for I wish for it to- a _family_. And we can have it, brothers! A pact that makes us share everything. Truly, all we want! Please, I do not beg, but for this once, join me, we can change the world and make it better!' Harry considered it. What had the Wizarding world truly done? Just step back and watch the Muggles live on and fall extinct. With Riddle's help, perhaps they could end the Muggles one and for all, change the entire Wizarding World for the better. He could convince Tom to be better. I… I…

'Coul-Could we save the girl? F-find some other way to bring you back? And… we have to stop the evil. We need to kill the old you once and for all, and you need to get hold of your destructive tendencies. Can- Can you do that, for me?' He was nervous, now was the save-all or end-all, it would decide the future of his life. And the boy seemed pensive.

'If we could become something more, true brothers like the camaraderie I've seen on the telie, I'm willing to give it a try. But obviously I can't go as Tom RIddle, so who am I?' The decision had taken a moment, but Harry sighed in relief. With that single breath, an unbreakable bond was formed, as Tom recognized it was one of hope and happiness, that he'd turn out good, and they could change the world together.

'We need something unique. Something that stands out in the crowd. You can take on your inherent titles when we visit Gringotts, see it as a sign of trust and a test. They will, with any hope, tell us whether you can be good again. Because you will. I shall make sure of it. Even if I must lay down my life.' Tom smiled, but it still wasn't an answer. 'Your name will be Skywalker. I saw it on the telly once, and it will be rare. It will stand out, and bring hope to others. Just as mine does. We'll be brothers, and once Trip joins us, unstoppable. The Light, the Gray, and the Dark, united together. Family.' Harry smirked.

'My first name will be the same. Like yours, it can be quite common, but that will make people see me as more of an Icon. Someone average to look up to. My name will be Tom Skywalker.' They both chuckled, until they noticed Ginevra slowly dying.

'Quick, how do we save you both!?' The panic held in his voice, for his new brother and friend's sister was commendable, but in the end pointless.

'You must defeat the Basilisk in my name, and I mean MY name, the new one. Hopefully, it will rid me of the diary, which will be cleansed, a sacrifice of an ancient magical creature to the Lord of Magic. I shall have a new mortal body, and we can truly stay. Perhaps it will even make me younger.' Tom shrugged, deciding it would take some time to get used to Tom Skywalker in his head. 'You don't have to do this, I'm sure we can find another way.'

'No, let's get it over with. Call the Basilisk forward, and I'll be ready.'

_~Speak to me, Slytherin, Greatest of the Hogwarts Four~_ Ok, the man definitely had an ego. Harry heard a slithering as the large creature came, and raised his wand. Quickly, he stepped back, nearly falling off the edge as he began casting.

'Confringo, Impedimenta, Reducto!' Each one bounced harmlessly off the creature's hide as it began smashing about, looking for the perpetrator. Eyes locked on him, they began clashing, the Ravenclaw raising a shield to block the serpent's bites as it came down, the Basilisk raising it's head to take the hits.

His breathing became heavier, as he started losing breath. Dodging the tail whip as he felt the air passing overhead, he used his strongest curse, bombarda, and channeled his magic and rage at the creature who threatened to take away the boy who would be his brother, and let loose.

Plssht!

His face was splattered with blood and guts, as he suddenly heard the call of a bird. He looked towards the call and noticed Fawkes, who carried the sorting hat and a note. He grasped each as the Phoenix fought off the Basilisk, and he idly noted Hedwig had joined the fray. He wasn't worried about them, they could easily flame away, for now all they were doing was buying time. Opening the note, it read:

Harry,

I am desperately sorry I could not join you, but I and the other professors are unaware if when we land we might look right into the beast's eyes and simply die. A weak reason, I understand, but it is a risk we simply cannot take, for all it would do is leave the school and yourself to the whims of monsters and the creature. Take the sorting hat, and claim your Destiny.

Dumbledore & Severus

Throwing away the note, he took the sorting hat, it's frayed and dusty brim gross to the touch. But when he felt it become heavy and a distinct clang! And metal hit the floor, he became curious. Looking down, he was surprised by what he saw. It was a literal sword.

The ruby-encrusted handle was a perfect fit as polished silver glinted in the torchlight, and he raised the broadsword, red against silver creating a beautiful clash of colours. A scabbard had also fallen, and he attached it to his belt, noting the call of the Phoenix as they flew away, even possibly spotting a wink from Fawkes. Hoping against hope it meant what he thought, he turned around to see the snake's eyes were scratched out, the tail nothing more than a stump as Tom grinned at him, thumbs raised.

'IN THE NAME OF TOM SKYWALKER!' Feeling a but cheesy and stupid, he jumped onto one of the nearby stone snakes, he knew he only had one shot. Leaping forward, he planted the sword in the creature's mouth, into the brain as he felt a piercing pain reach him. His grip fell as he began tipping, falling backwards into one of the waterfalls, eyes beginning to close. His consciousness began to wane as the last thing he heard was the faint call of his name from Tom, he drifted off.

When he awoke, it was to the distinct odour of the Chamber, and he idly wondered if Heaven, or perhaps Hell, smelled like this. If so, why did it all feel so real? The cold of the stone against his back, the heat of his feverish body. Wait… Did dead people get sick? Was that even possible? I suppose if it was necessary…

He opened his eyes to Tom Riddle's distinct form, and he smirked up. He looked towards his left arm, where the pain had come from. Embedded in his bicep was a deep cut, which had clearly held a Basilisk fang, and he nonchalantly noted Hedwig and Fawkes some feet away. Harry almost thought he could see slight traces of white slithering across the skin in several jagged edges, which made him feel slightly nauseous, but considering it didn't hurt he supposed it was harmless. Or a numbing charm.

'Wha-What happened?' Harry felt incredibly tired, and he wanted answers before going to sleep.

'You defeated the Basilisk, but got a fang lodged in your arm. I swam down and retrieved you, but you were dying. I called for your Phoenix, and both came, crying into your wound after I got rid of the piece. They saved you. And you saved me. Now I'm no longer attached to that book, am my own man, and am somehow twelve, going to be thirteen by the end of the summer.' Harry smirked, as he finally succumbed to the fatigue.

Tom called for the Phoenix to take the two students back up, as he looked down on the diary which no longer held his soul, reborn and whole again. The Old Voldemort would fall, and the three would rise from the ashes. But the leftovers of Old Voldemort needed to be destroyed, as he retrieved the fang that Harry had gotten, and destroyed the book, which oozed black goo. Smiling, he thought about his new brother, and the one who would soon be a brother. They'd change the world.

Quickly using a bit of wandless magic, of which he'd only learned two spells, he banished the book back to Harry and the wand to Ginevra, and sat there thinking about his future.

For Tom Riddle, had become Tom Skywalker, joining Hadrian Poterimus's side in the upcoming war, never to stray from his position forevermore.

—-

Harry groaned as he sat in Dumbledore's room, clearly noting that this was one of the professor's bad moods. They happened every once in a while, and it was becoming more obvious that they were common towards the end of the year. By his side was the sword he'd gotten from the hat, and his wand was holstered on his right arm. After seeing Madam Pomfrey, she finally let him go once the Headmaster appeared, after diagnosing his arm and the prognosis was he'd be fine, though she still wanted him to rest.

But the old man would have none of that, as he hurried Harry along to his office. There he'd decided to give him a lecture, before finally smiling, awarding Gryffindor meaningless points, and requesting the sword back. But of course he had no desire to do that. Considering it was supposed to be Gryffindor's, and that meant it was part of his heritage, there was no way he was going to give it to the man as another tool to intimidate others with.

'Please Harry, but the weapon is Hogwarts property, as a relic of the founders. Though I imagine owning such an item appeals to you, I must see it returned. It's not yours.' This really pissed him off. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it was irrational. The man didn't know he was Gryffindor's heir, and was just trying to keep a relic of the founders safe, but it still got to him.

'Sir, if I may, I am the one who pulled it from the hat. As far as I know, it transfers ownership to me, unless the heir shows himself and claims it, at which point I will hand it over to them willingly. But for now, I shall keep hold of it. Do not worry, i've looked it over, and have ensured the enchantments will prevent anyone but me wielding it, and I have put defenses in place to prevent others from trying to kill me to take it. You may look it over yourself, before I leave.' While Dumbledore looked irritated, he sighed in defeat when he looked it over and saw nothing wrong.

Suddenly the door slammed open, as a blonde man with long hair and a face similar to Draco's walked in, followed by Dobby, looking more depressed than ever. He noticed there was some blood on his pillowcase, his fingers were bandaged, and was shaking more than ever. Lucius, as he'd learned was the name from Draco, looked as well-dressed and aristocratic as ever, sneering at them both.

'So… You saw fit to return, even when the board fired you?' His glare intensified when he looked towards Harry, and his pity only grew for the house elf.

'Well, they decided to allow me to do so, when a young Gryffindor was taken into the Chamber. It's a funny thing, several of them were under the impression that you would harm them and their families if they spoke out against you.' The Headmaster looked more powerful than ever, allowing him to see why Voldemort had feared the man, even with a slightly lower power.

'That's ridiculous, I would never do that. They're clearly lying.'

'Perhaps.' He said this over his half-moon spectacles, and the only Ravenclaw thought he saw a slight shiver of fear pass over Lucius.

'Well then. Come along, Elf.' The disgusting excuse for a man kicked Dobby along, and out the door. As he looked after their retreating backs, suddenly an idea occurred to him.

'Sir, may I return that book to Lord Malfoy?'

'Certainly, Harry, I understand you don't want to allow me the sword, so keep it safe. And make sure the man receives all he deserves.' There it was, a glimpse of the good Dumbldore as he was handed the diary, a bit of pride in his eyes as the man's chest rose slightly at his actions.

Sprinting off, he caught up with the two figures before they managed down the steps, taking off his wet and slimy sock, stuffing it into the journal as he tapped Lucius's back. While he had reservations it would work, he spotted Dobby in the corner of his eye. It would be successful, it had to. For the elf's sake.

'Lord Malfoy, I believe this belongs to you?'

'What are you talking about boy!?' He opened the book, threw away the sock behind him and sneered, shoving it back into his arms. 'Come along, Dobby, we must be going!'

'Master gave Dobby clothing..'

'What are you talking about elf!? I did no such thing!' His glare intensified when he whirled around and saw the sock in his hands. He turned to Harry. 'You! You planned this! I'll have your head, boy!' A light green flared from the wand he'd pulled from his cane, but a quick flick of fingers had him banished as Dobby sent him tumbling.

'You shall not hurt Master Potter! Old Master shall leaves Hoggywarts!' His high queak wasn't as intimidating as it was likely intended, but it did the job as Lucius quickly left with a deep sneer at the two.

'Well Dobby, I don't know what to say, thank you.'

'It is alright Harry Potter Sir, but Dobby cannot survive with a bond, what shall I do?' The elf looked around disparagingly, and Harry decided to help him. While he didn't really need his help, you never knew when someone like he could prove useful, King and Queen were raising their children, after all.

'You could always work for me and be my personal elf. The ones at my manor are busy raising children and tending to their chores, and while I won't have much use for you, I can pay you.' Dobby looked positively tearful at this as he grabbed his legs.

'Yous so good to Dobby! I want no pay, but I do want to have children one days!'

It took some time, but eventually he managed to convince the crazy elf to accept one day off a year, because Harry did need personal space. Any more and he threatened to break it and die, which the Ravenclaw simply couldn't let happen, and the elf knew it. His argument was- what could I need time off for?

Dismissing the elf for the day, he thought about what he needed to do. That's when he suddenly remembered he had something at the Ravenclaw dorms that needed fixing. While everyone had 'forgiven him for being a parseltongue' he hadn't let them be any more than strangers, as he had no interest befriending such fickle people, and it wasn't even a real apology!

So Harry left, and hurried to his room. He needed to finish something before the end of the school year when he could still do magic, and with any hope this would allow him some reprieve from the Dursleys. So he sprinted up the steps, taking two at a time, and arrived at the Tower slightly out of breath. Morning runs had done him well. He'd been slacking off ever since last year, but had started back up again.

Reaching the tower, he answered the riddle - Pickle - and paced himself to his dorm, ignoring the calls for his name, they were just idiots trying to apologize and gain favor. He opened the door, and quickly walked over to his bed, sliding a crusty brown box down from under it. Sitting on his mattress, he placed it on his lap, taking a deep breath. Carefully opening the lid, he looked at his half-finished creation.

It was a box of spare metals he'd asked Dumbledore to permanently transfigure- which meant attaching magic to it that collected the dormant magic in the air- to power the transformation. What this also meant was when he finished it, he'd be able to choose what form it took by simply placing a hand on the item and imagining what he wanted. The inside of the box was moldy, so he pulled it out and threw the thing to the side, carefully examining his creation.

He called it a Sonic Screwdriver. It had various sections, five significant ones, that all combined to form one. The intent was to have a portable unlocking charm without the incantation or need to learn it wandlessley which would take ages, and have it work on every single spell, no exceptions, even the sealing one which essentially made the door a wall. It also detected various signals whether electric, magical or magnetic. Also conveniently working as a banishing charm as a wonderful side-effect from absorbing all the radiation.

It's handle, a black leather-like metal that held strong, had a thumb-sensing charm which activated the sonic everytime he both placed the select finger and willed it. Right below that was a long white section that slowly grew thinner, with eight oval indents that had rounded ends, with a half centimeter between the base and the handle, a small bronze ring also breaking them in half. The base was bronze, with one large ring that had a sudden drop a centimeter in, with a single drop halfway as it slowly grew thinner, until it widened again with a ring, and once more grew, then became smaller with a half inch thick piece and became smaller one more time in one that was an eighth of a centimeter thick and half an inch in diameter.

The piece above the handle was a long metal branch that shined as he polished it, which slowly gave way to the top. It had silver and bronze lines, the silver had dozens of small diamonds that made a section on each which was lifted roughly an eight of a centimeter upk with the base of the section being a bronze ring that led to the handle. The silver pieces led up to connect in the center, with matching metal branches sticking out from the bronze which helped make up the top.

The issue he had with it is there was no suitable power source, not even pure magic seemed to hold enough energy, and he'd practically given up. It had been a pet project of his since the beginning of the year, and it killed him to have to give up. The screwdriver had a center green crystal that would channel it, which he'd been working tirelessly to perfect. The top was a small bubble that, with the small puff in, gave way to another wide but thin bubble that was slightly larger, which thinned out again in between the circle formed by the silver bars, and widened back up again into an extra long crystal that could shorten again via magic, with a small bronze band to help channel the energy forward. It extended with the sonic itself when a button was pressed, and the silver bars extended along with the crystal, to theoretically allow the silver branches to extend so the electricity would center in the bubble and be able to activate a sonic and magic signal that did what he wanted.

The bottom of the base, where it suddenly grew to two larger rings detached itself, to reveal the perfect space for something to power it, as it attached to several wires which connected to the main crystal that ran through it to channel the energy. While the lack of a power source was disheartening, he'd long since resigned himself to the fact it was impossible. But, during his brief visit to the chamber, he had spotted something.

It looked discarded to the normal eye, but to anyone else, it was clearly placed there on purpose to prevent others from giving it a second look. And if he were honest, were it not for the incredibly powerful magical aura it gave off that were almost suffocating, he wouldn't have thought anything of it. Very few had the ability to sense magic, and he was only at a very, very basic level as Dumbledore had taken to teaching him the ability lately, but it gave off incredible waves. Though few knew it because it was simply so time-consuming to learn, as it relied on skill and experience more than anything else. It might take him till sixth year to master it on the course he was currently going.

The item was a pure black crystal, glowing slightly with grey energy and was shaped oddly. Small spikes stretched from it, and if it weren't for the completely pure form with a lack of rocks, he'd suspect it had been freshly cut off. There were no other physical oddities, for all intents and purposes it looked like a normal gem. But, with hope in his chest, he pushed it into the slot at the base, which quickly hooked onto the bottom, and closed it, allowing the wires to connect.

Giving it a second, he waited as it slowly absorbed all the data. Then, carefully holding it in hand, pointed it forwards and pushed his thumb to the handle, willing it to activate as he pressed the button lightly. It jumped forwards and lit up brilliantly, giving off a continuous buzzing sound. Smirking broadly, he pointed it at the door. It opened and he suddenly understood the buzzing as it's enchantments, permanent magic that absorbed ambient magic to work before, but now took it from the crystal that seemed to be a massive source of permanent pure magic, which when touched seemed to lose the tiniest amount then refilled though he sensed no lacking in the air around him, allowed him to understand the noises. It told him the charms and spells woven into the door, which truly gave him the greatest sensation of accomplishment and happiness he had ever felt. He'd created an object, a new object, for his sole purpose that with the new source, he may be able to pass down to his descendants and protect them.

So carefully pricking himself with a small curse, he dropped several beads of blood on the sonic to keep the key from ever being broken rather than a single dollop, and the screwdriver absorbed it, acknowledging him, and his descendants who held his belief as it's permanent owners, never to fade and be by his side for as long as he lived. There was no way he'd let it fall into dangerous hands. Truly, he'd done some masterful work. And with its protections, he and those he chose would be safe in their sleep. It would only prevent assasination and couldn't protect in a duel, though it's allegiance couldn't be won over. Once his line died or his beliefs were no longer held by them, it would shut off and stop working. After all, he needed to ensure their loyalty.

Carefully attaching it to his holster on his left arm, which was a small thin box that when activated by a flick of his wrist, launched the sonic perfectly into his hand so he'd catch it. An identical one lied on his right arm for his wand, both a dark dragon hide he had gotten from Ollivander in Diagon Alley. So, having finished with the Sonic and being the ending of an incredibly eventful day where he'd gone into the Chamber of Secrets, defeated a Basilisk, saved Ginevra Weasley, gotten a new brother, and finished his year-long project, he fall back into bed, sleeping soundly in his robes.

Year 2 end

**Read & Review Plz**


	21. Stressed Out

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

Harry had been having a simply phenomenal summer. Everything seemed to be going his way. Tom had recently moved in as an orphan whose mother had been killed by some criminals with some neighbors, and their brothership had blossomed. In fact, using Tom's knowledge on rituals, they planned one that would make them brothers in everything, with the idea to include Trip once the new year started.

While it wouldn't let them access others wealth, titles or power, even make them stronger, it would let them form an unbreakable bond, it would be like an unbreakable vow, but magic would guide them towards keeping it, and it would be completely willingly. No telepathy or things like that, while Harry had looked into it, soul-bonds only occurred in mates and after years of work in a relationship, typically appearing towards the end of their lives together to ensure they'd understand each other's love. A truly beautiful thing, magic is.

The ritual only worked if their future was certain that they wouldn't betray one another, at least permanently, and was more of a rite of passage. Harry was excited, as it would allow him to truly have a proper family, even with no parents. To be fair, Severus was the loving Uncle, Dumbledore the weirdo grandfather, Mcgonagall the stern grandmother, Flitwick the wise Uncle, and though he had nothing to truly fill in the void of a parent, he hoped he'd see that happen one day. Perhaps Sirius Black, if what he suspected was true, could be his father.

For now he was lounging in his room, feeding Hedwig treats, listening to Gracie soar invisibly in the air, using the natural magic Dragons wielded, Erebus was napping at the foot of his bed, and Dobby was sitting next to him with wide eyes staring fascinatedly at his old transfiguration textbook from first year. He'd collected enough of them to fill a bookshelf now, and the elf had decided to go through them to make sure his master was learning the best. Clearly he hadn't though he might get caught up in it all.

Harry really just watched on amused as everything went on around him. When he'd first heard of house elves he had worried of their possible extinction, but with the protections around Potter Manor and property, as well as those preventing harm coming to the elves themselves and wards specifically installed to ensure no Potter or guest would ever harm them, he was certain they'd survive. After all, they were loyal and if nothing else, an adaptable bunch.

It was after the tenth treat, and Harry began to feel as if he spoiled his Phoenix, that the flap in the door sounded, and he got up to get the soup. While they hadn't actively prevented him from doing anything, they encouraged him to stay in his room, assisted by giving him food and water through the flap and ignoring what he did.

With the activation of puberty, his thoughts towards several females took a more romantic light, and Daphne was looking more and more beautiful, but he resigned himself towards the fact he couldn't do anything physical whatsoever until the contract activated. Her parents had been very serious about that, and he was incredibly scared of them. It still surprised Ravenclaw that he was so frightened of the Greengrass parents, but he decided it was because he honestly believed their threats.

Moving on, he went back, drinking the warm soup. Once he'd complained, they had begun warming it up, simply as more motivation to keep him in there. He had occasional visits from Dudley who decided that it was worth the risk of upsetting his parents to hear more about the wonders of magic, and had fainted at the sight of Dobby, who had teleported him back to his bed. Nowadays Hedwig had warmed up to the boy, who had begun working off his fat and gaining muscle, which Harry complimented him on, though he also attributed it to the fact the boy gave her half his food. With them doting on her, Harry was honestly worried she might be getting spoiled, but decided it was worth it. After all, Happy Phoenix Happy Life.

Opening a letter an Owl had brought him overnight, he noticed it was from the girl he had been thinking of earlier. Her light, neat scrawl beat him, which he'd worked on over the summer and gotten to be readable, and hoped soon it would actually be nice. THough with constant hand cramps it seemed unlikely.

Harry

I do hope your summer is going well, mine certainly is, though with Astoria excited about going back to Hogwarts, I'm incredibly worried she's going to blow something up with accidental magic. We're going to get her supplies the week of your birthday, and we're hoping you and Tom would be interested in staying over that time. Also, I chose Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient Runes and Arithmancy for electives, what did you select? Please send your reply with Archimedes, he's the only one who can access our wards.

Love,

Daphne

Harry laughed. Did they honestly think Hedwig wouldn't be able to get through? Oh no, he decided, as he wrote out the reply graciously thanking them for the offer, and accepting. Handing it to Hedwig once he was satisfied, he watched as his Phoenix disappeared and reappeared with a content grin on her beak, though Archimedes looked slightly put down. That was, until Harry wrote out a quick note for Daphne not to underestimate his familiar, and gave the owl some treats. With his mood lifted, he flew off.

Heading back to his bed, he opened his book to a new page, until there was a tapping on his window. Annoyed, he looked out to spot Tom throwing rocks, nearly hitting him in the face when he opened it, and yelled for him to stop. He did after throwing one more, and Harry agreed to come down so they could speak. Grabbing his elective selection, he left the house, calling behind him not to wait up.

'What were you thinking, what if you'd knocked in the window, or actually hit me?' Harry said, fists clenched as he pointed at the offending boy whose hands were raised.

'Oh come one, I knew what I was doing. Anyway, I'm super excited! I finally signed up for Hogwarts, and with the galleons you gave me, tuition was paid. Now I just need to select my electives, which I was waiting for you to do. And I promise I'll pay you back!' He said this all at once, and it took a second for Harry to completely discern it all.

'Well, I do not believe you, but whatever. And that's good, I really don't care about the galleons, I am getting hundreds every day simply from investments, I will have gained several million by the time Hogwarts is out. As for electives, our entire group chose the same ones, Ancient runes with Professor Babbling, Arithmancy with Professor Vector, and Hagrid finally got his own class, Care of Magical Creatures, so you better get used to Professor Hagrid!' Tom grinned, and quickly checked three boxes before calling for Hedwig. She assisted Tom with sending out letters, until they visited DIagon Alley and he could get his own Owl. While not happy about it, she relented.

They began running around, adn after tiring out, headed to their hideout. It was something they'd built with Dobby's help, a treehouse solely visible to them and those they allowed. Dudley was the only other one who could access it and was nearby. Inside it was made of oak boards and looked like your stereotypical one, only larger with expansion charms and several pieces of furniture they got Dobby to bet and clean from the dump, for why buy and waste money when you can reuse the old and make it better with magic?

They'd gotten several bookcases with magical books, they'd spotted Dudley looking over them several times, and multiple windows with toy guns Dudley had brought in so they could have some fights and make up for their crappy childhoods. Tom's new family was incredibly nice and Harry had several sleepovers with the boy, secretly learning magic from each other. When the Hogwarts letter had arrived, everybody was surprised, seeing as how the resident Ravenclaw thought they'd have to owl in their request, especially since he'd be starting his third year.

When Mcgonagall arrived, it was while they were going over their books, and he helped with the interview and calming down the parents, who'd taken the idea they had adopted a magical child with incredible grace. Now, they wanted to know as much as they could, though they understood they could never practice it. Because of this, their excitement wasn't as extreme as some might have been, and had simply looked for basic understanding of the subjects, which Harry had been happy to provide. For now, Ben and May Essedge were content and happy with their little family, excited for when Tom turned Seventeen and could show them proper magic, but were wary. They were aware of human flaws, and didn't want to get irrationally jealous. Harry labeled them Good Muggles.

Harry, having remembered Draconus and Ronald wanting to watch Star Wars, had arranged a showing for his entire group, including a massive sleepover at Daphne's manor when she'd offered it. The event was supposed to occur on his birth week, which made it incredibly convenient that he and Tom had been invited to stay. As that started tomorrow, they headed back to Tom's house.

"Uncle Ben, Aunt May?" They'd both taken to calling the adults that, as they'd all grown quite close, and the two had insisted.

"In the kitchen, dears!" It was Aunt May, no doubt with sandwiches. They hurried in the direction, but made sure not to run as they'd been warned of that before.

"Thanks, May. We've been invited to Greengrass Manor for the week, and were hoping we could go? You could even see us off, check out the old pureblood houses?" May worked in real estate, which had been caused significantly by her love of architecture, and had wanted to visit one of the manors ever since she heard they existed. Using this ensured they'd get what they wanted.

"Oh very well, I'll get Ben and tomorrow we can leave." They smiled before biting happily into their sandwiches, going quickly over different spells they'd learnt. Though wise beyond their years most of the time, the opportunity to act like children didn't escape them. Especially since they knew that it'd likely end by the time the school year started. You could only go through so many life and death events and still act as a child. Might as well take advantage while they could. Especially with Harry the official leader of the group who had to set an example, Trip and Daphne his Generals, Tom his advisor.

Eventually, they finished their sandwiches. Hurrying up to Tom's room, they opened a book and began reading together. It was the advanced dueling book he'd begun reading over the school year, but got caught up on others. One particular passage interested him.

_There is no bond like that of family. None like brothers uniting together, fighting side by side to stop evil. Or sisters tearing apart those who hurt their siblings. Even hate for a parent is a high improbability only born out of incredible mistreatment. Yet it also proves the weakest of them all. For what is inside you becomes your most important asset, and your family may not always agree with that._

_It begins slowly over time, a small droplet of resentment festering into pure hate as they attempt to suppress who you are. This is the second most common cause of Dark Lords. Society can reject you however much they want and so long as you still have your family, many can live with it, staying in the light or grey. But if there is a loss there, it impacts them hard. If you lose both family and society, no one is immune, and all will fall evil. So to all families out there- do not reject yours. For you may just find something will come back to haunt you._

Harry thought it over, and decided it was right. While he had no hate or resentment to his family, even though they died, they died for him, to make sure he had a chance at living. Easily forgivable. But he also had no love for them. He imagined if everyone in wizarding society turned their backs on him, he might turn evil, even if he had his friends there. Despite having Daphne, Tom, and Trip, it would never be enough. He just hoped for their sake society never abandoned him, or they'd spell their own doom.

'Wooo! Everybody ready for some good old fashioned brilliant lightsaber battles!?' It was Ronald, who was dancing around with a toy he'd gotten during their trip to the city. Looking like Muggles had been hard for all the purebloods, and taking the tube had been an experience Harry would remember forever.

They'd decided to start watching Return of the Jedi soon after, and Draconus had been fascinated by the Sith and their eerie similarities to Dark Wizards, who were coincidently commonly called Dark Lords. He'd looked up all the interesting ones with a rich muggle kid who he had been friendly with, and found them very entertaining. He'd been especially interested by a few he'd found in a book on Legends.

Darth Revan, Nihilus, Sion, Traya, and Vader. When Harry pointed out he'd chosen the Triumvirate, he suggested why not they make themselves a group with a Triumvirate in charge. And obviously, it would include Harry, Daphne, and himself of course. While they all laughed, he decided he was serious and had even written up a chain of command, though he'd yet to assign names. They had all decided not to encourage him, especially as he'd likely go about calling them the selections in publix. Thought, the emerald eyed leader had been pensive for a moment, and considered it. It was definitely an intriguing idea.

Eventually, they all finally sat down and just watched their show. Observing, the black haired male Ravenclaw considered the idea of lightsabers, and his Sonic, which was currently in it's holster. A beguiling idea, but an ambitious one. He';d either have to find a way to replicate the crystal currently powering his second favourite tool, find more of them, which seemed unlikely, or find something else to power it.

The whole thing was an ambitious idea, but it had merit. After all, how many magic users would have a form of defense against what was essentially hardened light and could theoretically pass through literally anything when activated? After all, he had no current project. He resolved himself to practice his transfiguration, enchanting, and to find something that could power them. It'd certainly make Draconus happy.

Perhaps they could found a real Jedi Order? He laughed, what silliness. But they could definitely start some group between their friends, and decided he might want to look into doing that this year. Stuff would need to be drawn up, but they'd be an even closer family. For now, he resolved himself to doing it later, and just focus on the show, which they were watching in Hermione's house.

Speaking of which, it was all decorated quite tastefully. It was a nice pale white, and had the atmosphere of a family, rather than the oppressive cleanliness in Privet Drive Number Four. With no siblings, and a need to mature to ignore the insults, Hermione had stopped using toys and instead reading books, allowing the entire house to stay ordered. The basement, where they were watching to prevent interference from the large amount of magicals, and causing all the electricity to short as there was stone everywhere and the tv was connected to physical cables which displayed that which was on the above television. Thus, it kept destruction to a minimum.

The floor was stone with several blankets laid down, and snacks made by the Granger Adults, since they had 'Too much time on their hands' as it was summer, they were taking a month's vacation to spend time with their daughter. Harry found her enjoyed talking with them, as unlike the Dursleys, who were needlessly cruel, or the Greengrasses, who'd grown cold and distrusting with the actions and imprisonment of her uncle, they were kind and welcoming. Much like the Essedge's.

'Harry, aren't the lightsabers cool? I wish you could make one, like your Sonic.' Draconus was staring at the tv, but also looked to him expectantly for an answer. He sighed.

'Yes, I suppose it would be cool, but I really just have no idea how to power it. Bloody Hell, it's brilliant that I can talk about it like it is a possibility.' While he did find it interesting, for now he just pushed Draconus away from the ability and back to the program.

'Hey Draco, how's your studies coming along?' Ronald.

'They're alright, my father is starting to show me the business, and I haven't had much time. Besides, these muggle things are simply smashing, and I've had to watch them in secret because my father doesn't want me watching them.'

'Why not get some books, and charm them?' Harry's hands were clenched, as the muggles were already going extinct, why attempt to continue their culture? But, he supposed as his hands loosened, might as well keep the good aspects. They'd die out soon enough, and their history could be preserved in some sort of museum. After all, the biological differences in a pureblood or even half blood wizard were quite distinct from pureblood muggles.

'Harry, why are magicals so different from muggles? I mean, I know we use magic and all, but isn't there more?' It was Astoria Greengrass, who'd invited herself and was coming to Hogwarts for her second year. He decided to humor her.

'Well, there are a great many factors. The most distinct is that we use that natural power in the air. Nobody knows where it comes from, only that it is infinite, and a great many tests have been done, with literally every single one pointing to the fact not even a single iota of this power ever having permanently disappeared. In fact, evidence has suggested it's increased.' Everyone looked on in interest, as the credits of the movie rolled.

'How does it work? I mean, why do we use it and they don't?' This time it was actually Daphne who questioned him, and he raised an eyebrow. Hadn't she been there when he'd done the research? He had seen her reading.

'Well, every single magical creature has something called a magical core. It's not physical, not an extra organ or anything like that, it's more metaphysical. It's connected to our souls, which every being, including muggles, have, though they seem to be lacking a key component which allows the core to properly activate and grow during youth, but nobody has figured out what it is. This magical core creates a small amount of magic, minor compared to what is actually flowing through our body, which taints that which is absorbed in our body from the surroundings, which is what we typically use to cast and creates our aura, thus placing a magical signature, giving us our identities. For every single one of us is unique, even identical twins or theoretically clones would be different in magical signature. Nobody in recorded history has ever had the same soul.' He took a sip of water, as everyone's attention was focused on him.

'The more powerful you are, the more magic you naturally generate and the stronger your signature. At the same time, the more ambient magic you absorb, to be launched at your opponent, then sent back into the air and eventually be reused. We have the same magic flowing through our body that once flowed through the founders, or at least we might. The size of your body does not matter significantly, but it can be helpful, which is why you must exercise, as it helps everything flow.' Nobody even batted an eye at the crash and cursing of Hermione's father when he dropped a plate, preparing dinner.

'The loss of limbs is devastating to a warlock, as it costs them more space to hold magic, thus keeping them from casting as long, though if trained your body can absorb magic faster to make up for this. The biggest factor that makes the difference between how powerful you are, is the density of your magic. The more powerful, the thicker your consistency, which means more powerful spells and longer casting, though an olympic level athlete witch could beat a lazy wizard, because she could absorb magic faster, and cast spells for longer, with better stamina.' He was growing a bit tired, and decided to wrap it up.

'I suppose you could compare it to the midichlorians in Star Wars, the more powerful you are, the more midichlorians you have, and thus the stronger and more easily you gain powers. Yet at the same time, if you don't train them, it's pointless and they just lie there, thus allowing even a novice force user to beat an incredibly lazy master, if they exercised daily. And now, I believe I smell dinner.' The analogy clearly assisted Draconus and Ronald, who began debating on who had more 'midichlorians' in their body, and overall agreed Harry had the most of their group. He didn't have to heart to tell them that everyone else already knew from a simple spell.

For dinner, they had kidney bean pie, which he found delicious, and they made their way to the basement to sleep. The girls shared Hermione's room, and with no guest bedroom the guys had the base floor. Thankfully, with some blankets and pillows, he found it did his spine some good, though he had no interest in repeating it.

It was the end of July, and Harry, with his friends, was going down Diagon alley to shop. He and Tom were heading to Gringotts, while the others picked up the supplies they needed, which the other two had picked up with May and Ben. Little had changed, though he'd picked up a book on Parseltongue, called _Parseltongue, Parselmouth, and Parselmagic: A Guide._ It was the only one in the shop, after some poking around learned they didn't know how it had gotten there. So far it simply went on a bout theory and gave a few examples of spells. When he'd looked into the author's family as only an actual parselmouth could have written it thus making them a Slytherin, he learned they were dead. Sad.

He and Tom entered the grand marble building, nodding to the guards as they walked up to a teller. This one was counting galleons with thick glasses and muttering to himself. Harry walked up confidently, with Tom standing behind him proudly. After all, image was important. When he was with others, they could take the spotlight. But here, he needed to be himself completely, so used his inner Gryffindor courage, and self confidence he gained from Dobby and living at the manor, training himself.

'Excuse me sir, I am Harry Potter. I would like to see my account Manager, Kragrakk to be specific, and my friend here will be coming with. Here is my key.' Handing the goblin his iron bit, standing tall and earning respect from the seated being, who answered promptly.

'Through that door, Lord Potter-Black, I do believe you know the way.' He nodded, and they parted ways after dropping a couple sickles on his desk for the politeness.

He remembered the many wall decorations, and resolved to finally go through them in his head. Who knew what kind of wisdom and secrets lied hidden inside them. But for now he walked through the twisted maze of hallways, eventually reaching the door labeled 'Potter Account Manager' and walked in, greeting the goblin who was going over some paperwork.

'Lord Potter-Black' Tom looked at him funny, it was the second time someone acknowledged himas that, but Harry waved it off for a later date. 'What brings you to my office?'

'Well, this is Tom Skywalker,' Draconus and Ronald had squealed when they heard the name and asked the boy a ton of questions, 'Wished to get the standard inheritance test and all that done. I had no idea where else to go for it, as you administered mine.'

'Well, had you asked the teller, he would have directed you to the inheritance department. But I suppose I can help you here." Kragrakk said, sighing a bit. He called for Griphook, who came in with the standard materials. The two warlocks waved, and he did do a bit hesitant, unsure.

Distributing the required blood, words began to form and sink in, as Kragrakk looked upon it in surprise. A frown soon formed, and he scowled a bit, but by the end he smirked slightly. Both pre-teens, as Tom had decided his new birthday was August fifth, some important day for him or whatever, were sweating. The smirk looked positively evil. Finally it was placed before them, and instead of simply reading it, asked for the boy's permission, he nodded his ascent, though there was a short pause.

_Tom Rory Skywalker_

_Parents: Tom Marvolo Riddle and Merope Gaunt_

_Notable Ancestors: Antioch Peverell, Salazar Slytherin, Sheev Palpatine_

_Magical Core: 227_

_Magical Abilities:_

_Parseltongue-Magic-Natural_

_Legilimency-Natural_

_Magic-Pure_

_Type-Dark-Grey_

_Affinities:_

_Dark: Natural_

_Potions: Adept_

_Heir-Peverell(3rd), Slytherin(Locked), Palpatine(2nd)_

'Warrior Kragrakk, why is he the third heir of Peverell, and second of Palpatine? Shouldn't he at least have been able to claim Palpatine?' Harry was questioning this a lot. It didn't make sense.

'Well, Lord Potter-Black, it's been sometime since you've visited, and a great many things have happened. I also have some things to confess.' Kragrakk took a deep breath, preparing himself. This would be a sad discussion.

'It all began the day you first came into Gringotts…'

**Read & Review Plz**


	22. Parhelion

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

'You were a young boy, clearly malnourished and weak, yet so strong. When you came in, I saw willpower that even in my old age still awed me. Yet, it made me sad. For such power is not born out of happiness and love. No, from hate and resentment. So i made the decision not to inform you of certain pieces of your history and abilities.' Harry was getting angry, but decided that if the goblin had not shown him something, it had to be important, so he brought down his shields, and listened.

'Here, is your complete inheritance sheet.' Kragrakk said while handing him a piece of parchment from his drawer. The Ravenclaw looked it over, as Tom stared off, giving him time to process it.

_Hadrian(Harry) James Poterimus(Potter)_

_Parents: Lily J. Potter(née Evans) and James C. Poterimus(Potter)_

_Notable Ancestors: Ignatius Peverell, Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, Phineas N. Black, Sheev Palpatine, +_

_Magical Core: 252_

_Magical Abilities:_

_Parseltongue-Magic-Natural_

_Animagus-Natural_

_Occlumency-Natural_

_Legilimency-Partial_

_Magical Resistance-Developed-75%(Obliviation)_

_Seer-Partial_

_Magic-Pure_

_Type-Light-Grey_

_Affinities:_

_Defense: Natural_

_Charms: Natural_

_Transfiguration: Master_

_Alchemy: Master_

_Heir-Potter, Black, Hogwarts(¼ Locked), Palpatine, Shadeslayer, Peverell(2nd)_

'What is the Shadeslayer title, and why is it just Hogwarts now, and why am I Heir to the Palpatine line?' He was incredibly nervous now. That was supposed to be an incredibly infamous line that birthed the darkest wizard in known history, so much so even the mention of him was taboo. Far more than Voldemort.

'Well, Shadeslayer is the oldest line known to us. Nobody knows where it came from, only that it spawned several powerful ones, Including Emrys. With those having bred back into the main one, including Merlin himself, you are, technically, the heir to several more. However, just like Hogwarts, they've been severely shortened to give you less of a mouthful. Such as when the Queen is simply referred to as the Queen, rather than her dozens of titles. Kragrakk smiled a little at this, and Harry sighed in acceptance.

"Well then, This technically gives me 3 titles, and I'm curious as to why one of the Hogwarts isn't unlocked. Also, is six abilities common?'

'While not especially rare because of the excessive amounts of thirty present and the incredible amount of inbreeding, you definitely have more than most. As for your lordships, you have embraced all but the Slytherin one, which legend says is solely attainable by gaining access to his fabled Chamber of Secrets, wherein lies much of his wealth, secrets and even his Lordship ring.' Kragrakk gave a secretive smirk, and Harry smirked back. 'For now, here is the Palpatine ring, you may will it to become invisible like the others, and the protections only stack.' He opened a red box to reveal ruby velvet.

The ring was beautiful, with a bronze base, the jewel was a red crystal that seemed eerily similar to the one in his sonic, with the carving of lightning entrenched in it. The entire design was simple yet elegant, and both tweens whistled appreciatively. Placing it on his finger, all that was felt was a surge of power, and some knowledge of long forgotten magic. Thankfully, no trials. He still shivered when he looked at the Black ring.

'Kragrakk, I was wondering if you could point me to crystals like these, I'm curious.' He pulled out the screwdriver and took out the base, showing the power crystal.

'Dear King of Magic… Where did you get that?' Kragrakk was amazed, and Harry was glad he didn't need to explain it to Tom, who'd left to give him some privacy when Kragrakk began his story.

'Trade secret, my friend, now, do you know where I can get more?' His smirk widened further as the goblin looked disappointed, but answered anyway.

'Well, there are none more like that, at least in common knowledge, but there are similar ones. I assume you wish to use it for the power it generates?' Harry nodded. 'These types of things are pure coagulated magic, that has been around long enough it has thickened and become a crystal. They are only found in certain places in the world that are magic-heavy, but ones like those are so rare because they were the first to ever be created. Unlike the others, they cannot be destroyed. Nobody knows what they really do or what makes them so special, so keep a hold of that.'

So they ended their discussion, with Kragrakk giving him a list of locations. One just so happened to be Hogwarts, and another was a select few manor, Black, Potter, Peverell, Shadeslayer and finally Bones. Though as the others were significantly older, Bones would likely only have a few. So he resolved himself to have a look around the ground of those he had access to, try to find more. Few harvested them, and any that were, destroyed. As they were literally just crystallized magic, there were many colours, many shapes, sizes, etc. The crystals, as pure magic, would just be reborn again if destroyed, with the endless pool, and Harry smirked as he thought of ways he might speed up the process. After all, if your source is infinite, why not take advantage?

—-

His birthday was insane. They'd decided to host it outside, as all his friends were coming, and as Tom was celebrating his own the same day, might as well take advantage. Neville had been unable to come, since his Grandmother had forced him to attend a party with a bunch of rich snobs for his birthday, so it was just Trip, Liz, Daphne, Astoria, Draconus, Ronald, and Hermione who had come. The twins had promised to drop by, but apologized as they were working on some new products.

Severus. Flitwick, and McGonagall had come over as well, spending time with the parents who were visiting, and Dumbledore had sent a letter that he couldn't come because of a Wizengamot & ICW meeting back-to-back, but arranged for his present to arrive the exact moment they would begin. While disappointed, he didn't let it bring his spirits down. After all, it was his birthday.

So they blew out the candles, ate some cake and were now getting to presents. While Tom's was slightly smaller, he'd integrated into their new group quite successfully, and so it wasn't by much. Even the professors had given him one each, as a welcome to Hogwarts celebration. They quickly began opening the lot, and Dudley looked on from the crowd, a twinge of disappointment his parents hadn't even bothered to come, nor give their nephew anything good. Thankfully for him, he thought he found something perfect during a visit to Diagon Alley with his cousin over the few times he'd been able to, and crossed his fingers his resident wizard would be happy with it.

In total, the Ravenclaw received 15 presents, while Tom got 12. Harry, received several books on dueling, a new potions set, a broom polishing kit, a pile of sweets, new robes in every single colour of his houses(Tom, Trip, and Daphne winked), a beautiful backup wand holster, new quill with Phoenix feather and quite a bit of parchment, A Slytherin coloured watch, small vial of Felix Felicis worth 24 hours, a new set of shirts, 101 ways to charm a witch, 101 ways to charm a wizard(He glared at both, and he suspected who they were from), and a small black haired, green eyed kitten he named Nyx. He was certainly getting quite the menagerie of Familiars. Dobby popped in a second later with an old sock, and thanking him graciously, he pocketed it to display as evidence of their friendship.

Tom got much the same, with the exception of the sock, robes, kitten(He got a puppy), broom kit, and sweets. He grinned and thanked them all, as Harry simply smirked and bowed, with a head nod and already planning the thank you cards. After that, they partied for a while, Harry asking his elf to transfer the items to their respective rooms then inviting him to join the party.

Who knew elves could dance?

They were on the platform, getting ready to go to the train. Since Ben and May were Muggles, they couldn't cross the barrier, so goodbyes were sent, and the two teens ran into the pillar. When they crossed the side, they both sighed in awe. Despite having found a new family and friends, the Hogwarts Express represented their escape into a better world, one where anything is possible. So, carefully pushing their trolleys and ignoring those who stared at them, they lifted their trunks onto the train.

While his friends knew of the existence of Tom Skywalker, they did not know he was one Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr, Voldemort. The two decided to keep it that way, and prevent too many questions as well as risk the boy's life, so no living soul but them knew the truth. Just like only Harry knew of his Sonic Screwdriver, and he'd yet to even tell anybody of his creation. Dumbledore likely suspected he had crafted something, but he didn't know. His friends respected his secrets, and didn't pry. When they did, he reminded them how that sort of thing would feel, and said that if it was important to their health, he wouldn't even wait a heartbeat.

So they stepped into the compartment they'd agreed upon, casting the necessary expansion charms. He also added some comforts to his spot on the seat, ensuring he'd be comfortable. The entire thing was simply doubled, with blue cotton cushions, a wide window, mahogany walls(Hogwarts wasn't the premier school for nothing), and a glass wall that was spelled to be clouded so any activities wouldn't be seen, just in case there was some sort of secret political alliance. No doubt a politician had demanded it. In the end though, it just insured that any deals would be left alone.

The table in the center was a polished mahogany table that extended from the wall with no leg, a lamp placed upon it to give light during the travels. Above the seats were brackets sto place your trunk upon, and the two students heaved them up, finally sitting down. Tom to read, and Harry pulling out his old glasses.

While his newest project wasn't especially original, it was still useful. Popping out the lenses, he focused carefully and summoned new ones that wouldn't damage his eyesight. Adding the standard impervious charms, that was when he began charming it properly. Placing a protection rune he'd studied, with backups in case it exploded-as had already happened several times-, he watched as the frame took it on. Then he added detection spells, which would hopefully reveal one's true intent towards him, when combined with the protection charm. Carefully weaving them together, he watched as the bond formed

While it was relatively minor enchanting, it was still an incredible achievement for him. He'd never be as good as Trip or Tracey Davis, this was progres. Though, admittedly by his age, those who wanted to be Enchanters were several levels higher. Delicately putting them on, he looked around. So far, no change. Good. These had a plastic frame which wasn't an especially conductive material for magic, but it would hopefully last for a year or two until he could get a new pair, then add even more additions.

Staring at Tom, there was no visible change. However, a small wiggle in the back of his mind felt trust, and he suspected it was the work of the glasses. He hadn't felt any sort of magical manipulation to his knowledge, but they were supposed to be commands whispered to you, that encouraged the activity, pretending to be you. It could be the work of an especially skilled manipulator, but he doubted it.

Deciding to wear them from now on, he waited for the others as he pulled out the Marauder's map and a spare bit of parchment he'd been using to mark down spots where crystals might be prevalent. With a large amount of projects he wanted to accomplish, including increasing his wandless repertoire to four. After some time last year set aside and a small growth in his core, he'd gotten the shield, summoning, and switching charms. Next up was basic transfiguration, which, theoretically, when done wandlessley would not need any sort of incantation, thus negating the need to learn several at a time. It was just extremely hard, and he expected to only finish by maybe the christmas holls.

So far he'd managed the Chamber of Secrets, a room Dobby had called the Come and Go room that the elf had promised to show him, the Forbidden Forest, and the deep Dungeons. Not much, but hopefully the locations would hold a lot of them. If they didn't, he'd check out Potter and Black Manor. For now, he simply focused on writing them. Scratching an itch on his back, he focused back on the parchment.

Soon enough, his friends came in, Daphne sitting beside him alongside Trip and Liz, the others joining Tom. Everyone began playing exploding snap until the trolley arrived, and they bought plenty for everybody, Harry careful to avoid the beans. Nothing especially exciting happened until dark, with Draco's allies stopping by to talk and leaving soon after.

When Eve set in, and everybody had changed back into their robes, Ronald and Draconus in a game of chess, Trip and Tom playing their own game with everybody but Harry, who was sleeping, reading, things were looking to be a peaceful ride. Hedwig had already flashed with Erebus and Nyx, Gracie had flown over, so he had no real worries. Until he heard a faint screaming.

Flashes of green, screams from a red-haired woman and a greasy-haired man he recognized as a younger Snape. It was like his Seer visions, except these felt all too real. Having read in his Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them copy, it was likely Dementors. So calling upon his happiest memory, his deepest feeling, he launched to his feet and called forth, using as much power as he could, creating the brightest one any had ever seen, blinding them as it charged, and burned the creature in front of it.

_Dementors are a creature of pure magic. More so than any other. They are the result of excess Dark Magic being sent in the sky far too many times, which eventually took solid shape. Seeking a desire, a true purpose, legend tells that they descended upon the very first wizards, who fought valiantly to destroy them but were stopped, as the creatures continued to breed. This is false._

_They are not born with the desire to consume souls, nor have they ever been. Nobody truly knows their origins, some even say they were an ancient race of wizards who dabbled a bit too deeply in blood magic and became the monsters that haunt our nightmares, but there should not be even an ounce of credence given to this, as it was created by the ministry to help ease their blanket dark magic announcement. These are beings of unadulterated magic, no matter what is said. All we know is that they once formed from a coagulation, not how that was created nor how to replicate such an event._

_Their natural prey is decomposed magic, which has lived too long and begins creating a rift. Thus, they consume it, allowing King Magic to make more to fill the gap, and thus creating an ever spiraling circle. But like all things, they began being pushed by the ministry, and disliking of this, they learned they could eat all magic, not just that which is dead. So they began consuming the soul, a form of purity that could feed them for their lifetime._

_They struck up a deal, to eat the souls of the damned, given to them by the ministry. But there was a side-effect of destroying such a pure symbol, such innocence. For magic extracts a price, and the toll for this was far too high. They became creatures of Darkness, leaving behind their once beautiful selves to become haunted ghost-like beings with solely an ever-lasting hole instead of faces, to be covered with a cloak. It gave them a permanent dread-aura, and in the end the entire species was devastated and left but a shell of their former selves, because of the Ministry's nosiness._

_Many say they cannot be harmed, and many say they can. The Patronus Charm, while not destructive to the creatures, is a representation of happiness and refined joy, what they once were. It scares them away, no matter how determined they might be in their search. Some even say that if you create one strong enough, it could harm and even kill the creature, as they have become the opposition to such magic._

_If you ever find a way to destroy these beings, do so. For they've become abominations, and I am sure that if their ancestors and past selves could see them now, they'd wish for such things. Being stuck in such a form for eternity, must be endless suffering. Help them, Destroy them._

As Harry was pulled from his thoughts, he looked towards his patronus. To everyone's shock, it had changed. No longer Hedwig, Gracie and a Stag, but his dragon, though miniaturized, alone. He thought back to the theory, and recalled they reflected one's personality, much like their animagus. He suspected his inner turmoil might be coming to an end, or just beginning. The damn itch was really getting to him, so he scratched some more, and it faded somewhat.

A Professor in old, faded robes with a bit of facial hair entered, and Harry decided immediately he was one to trust. That wasn't based solely on the fact he was a werewolf, judging by the excessive ageing, complete lack of silver even in colouring, and slightly sharper fangs and nails, though he could very well be an animagus, which was more likely and now that he thought of it probably the right answer. He just seemed to exert some sort of calming aura around him, and his genuine warm smile definitely helped.

If the man in front of him was an animagus, then it was definitely some form of large canine, as he'd looked up what sort of traits you got from each form, and his all matched up. To think, two professors one, maybe he'd get some tips. While he hadn't flown in some time, his sharpened eyesight and hearing had definitely helped, though with so many projects and schoolwork, he probably wouldn't get much time to use it.

Soon enough, the train stopped. Remus Lupin, as he'd introduced himself, was up front talking to the driver after giving everybody some chocolate, which eased the shivering that Harry was feeling. Soon enough, they all stepped off the train, leaving their trunks behind as they got on the carriages, whose Thestrals, which he had learned about from Hagrid after a particularly melancholic discussion, were neighing in what seemed to be impatience. Smirking, he got on.

The sorting was going painfully slow. Every student seemed to take ages, though it was likely only a minute. His back was itching beyond belief, and scratching had long since lost it's relief. While his friends had noticed his irritation, they'd given up when he snapped at Trip for daring to ask what was wrong. He finally paid attention when Tom's name was called, though ignoring the itch proved to make it quickly increase in size. Finally, after much deliberation, it called:

'Slytherin!' Which wasn't a surprise to him, but to the others it drove them out of their minds. He just smirked back, until his back acted up again. Dumbledore stood to give the welcoming speech, and Harry's patience was about to snap.

'Welcome, Students of Hogwarts, to a new year! I would like for us all to welcome Professor Remus Lupin for Defense Against the Dark Arts!' There was subdued clapping. 'A reminder- The Forbidden Forest is Forbidden, the list of Banned items has increased and is posted on Mr Filch's door.' He paused to take a breath, and his back went from simply itching to pure pain, as if there was something growing.

'With the escape of Mass Murderer Sirius Black, the Ministry has seen fit to place Dementors around Hogwarts. Their dreadful aura is something I hoped to avoid, but the Minister will not be swayed. So I ask that you all be careful when visiting Hogsmeade, and- Mr Potter?' Dumbledore was confused as he looked at the boy who'd stood up in his seat.

Meanwhile, Harry was screaming internally. Everything was painful, as he began limping out of the Great Hall before something happened. Madam Pomfrey came 'round the head table and tried to examine him, but he waved her off. His back was beginning to get absolutely unbearable, his fists clenched, every muscle tense as he grit his teeth. Just as he reached the end of the tables, his back almost seemed to grow, as the robes he was wearing began to stretch outward. He screamed in pain as he fell to his knees.

Suddenly, they burst open as he began to shine, pure white light similar to that form his newest patronus in it's beginning formations spread outward as wings outstretched from his back. Between the throes of pain he recalled that Kragrakk had stated this would happen, as the direct descendant of the Gryffindor line. Others had faint ties but they were far too old and diluted to give them the wings.

The wingspan came to roughly ten feet, and heaved him down. When it all finally came to an end, he was left in the tatters of his shirt, tie still wrapped and he had shrugged his robes off. What was supposed to be a personal moment representing his freedom and heritage became a spectacle, with many muggleborns commenting about him being a real life angel, and the only ones who knew what they really meant being Dumbledore, and possibly Tom. He cried lightly, his newest appendages wrapping him into a cocoon as he sprinted away.

Arriving at the edge of the Black Lake, he sat down and reflected on everything. With no more access to his animagus wings, since as Kragrakk had believed, the new ones replaced them, at least in his human form, he didn't know how he would use them. Having trained for hours to strengthen the old ones, he had no idea if the new ones would hold up. They almost seemed to have a mind of their own as one stroked his cheek, and he smiled lightly. For now, he would try to fly to the dorm window and sleep, his appetite had been lost anyway.

Tomorrow would be interesting.

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	23. Darkside

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

When he woke up, he'd discovered his wings missing. Panicking for just a moment, until he realised he could still feel them, sort of, they just weren't there, physically. As if they were in another dimension. WHen he focused on them coming back, they launched outwards and destroyed the hanging, to loud clangs, a cringe and some pain.

When he willed them to disappear once more, they did, and he quickly repaired the entire thing. Checking the time and noting it was after breakfast, he decided to get it over with and head to Dumbledore's office. The guardian just stepped aside, and he walked up the steps, called upon to enter before he knocked. Frowning, he sat on the seat as the Headmaster looked upon him with curiosity.

'Mr Potter, I was unaware you would wield your wings, and why you wouldn't self-isolate until they appeared.' While there was genuine empathy, a bit of disappointment had seeped into his voice.

'Sorry, sir, but I had completely forgotten about the advice I had been given until the very last second, which was far too late. If I had known, I would have hid in my dorm. Though, I am curious why you knew about them.' Harry asked, whilst glaring lightly at the fact he was not reminded.

'Your father went through the same thing, remember? He had to explain why he missed an entire day of classes. I did not remind you, because I assumed it had already happened. And, before you leave, I will say you should probably get a handle on the rumours. A great many think you are some sort of angel.' His grin belied his amusement, and all the boy could do was give him a withering gaze.

Leaving the way he had come, the Ravenclaw headed off to Defense, where his class was about to begin. He had already missed Potions, and Uncle Severus would not be happy. Making another professor angry on his first day of term was not a goal he had.

The minute he entered, whispers began, with awed stares being thrown. He ignored them all; fickle people were not his sort. Trip had saved him a seat, and Susan Bones was behind him. His uncomfortableness only grew when the thirteen year old, whose bust was already growing quite significantly, spent her time staring at his arse. Daphne glared at the girl, but he was completely unaware, trying to focus on the door Lupin would supposedly enter from.

'Hello, Class!' Speak of the devil and he shall cometh. 'Today, we don't need our books, just our wands. Now, follow me!' The entire class sighed in relief as they dropped their bags and began walking out of the classroom with him, as Harry flicked his out. While still a bit wary of this teacher, as the last one was a poof who retired from professor life because 'Students refuse to listen to me despite my opinion being held high world-round, and I wish to continue writing my memoirs.' and the other one had Voldemort in the back of his head, trying to kill him. While Professor Smedry wasn't bad, he seemed a bit odd. Breaking things everywhere, though it didn't happen too often, the man still seemed far too clumsy with important items. SUpposedly, if the story was true, he'd also broken a chicken. Strange.

They walked into a larger classroom, with all the desks vanished and the chairs pulled to the side. In the center was a large, ordinary cabinet, which confused Harry. There were few creatures that could live in these types of objects, and Boggarts, as well as Gnomes were the two most prevalent. Gnomes were easy to deal with, a good throw would knock one out, but a Boggart was much more difficult, since they took the shape of one's fear.

When he thought about it, he really couldn't come up with anything. There was plenty that scared him a bit, but nothing was especially frightening. While he wasn't especially religious, he did know there was an afterlife, and those who denied it were idiots. I mean seriously, there are Ghosts everywhere, who could tell you it existed! Muggles had good reason, there was no evidence for them so realistically the ones who didn't believe in it were logical, though he'd seen plenty of both religious and smart people, so it didn't really matter.

Getting back to the matter at hand, Lupin finished his lecture before calling upon Trip, who said he didn't really know what his biggest fear was either. Susan Bones said it might be rejection, while Terry Boot thought it might be Voldemort. Tuning them back out, he focused on starting a conversation with Daphne, until the ragged professor told them to get into a line to begin Boggart practice. He was near the start, with Liz and Anthony Goldstein in front of him.

Liz was afraid of loss, as her surroundings and everyone she loves disappeared, but she cast the spell and suddenly everyone appeared again, dressed in bright red velvet clothes. She laughed at them all and went to sit down as Goldstein began. His greatest fear was clowns, as a gigantic one appeared, and even Harry felt a slight shiver up his spine at the sight. When the counter was used, it turned completely pink, tied up with Goldstein beating into it, laughing as it disappeared back into the cabinet.

Finally, it was his turn. He would finally see the deepest, darkest fear that was buried in his mind, finally face what haunted him most, even if he was unsure of what it was. Carefully, the professor opened the door to allow the Boggart to take shape. Giving an encouraging smile, the man stepped back. So the Ravenclaw's attention was solely on the object in front of him.

Suddenly, a mass of swirling matter appeared, and everyone looked confused until it began to coalesce into something. The first part that appeared was a gloved left hand, then the right appeared holding a wand. Harry shivered. He knew that wand. His eyes widened as a head appeared, covered with a hood. He stepped back. The figure almost seemed to step out of the mass, growing as it reached its full height, head bowed. Everyone was stunned, looking at what it was as he tripped and fell backwards, landing flat on his arse and palms, fear clouding rational though. It looked up, and everyone gasped.

It was the being he had dueled in his mind, back for revenge. Nothing took that thought from his mind. Their wand raised, until it paused, pensive. His fear grew as they reached for their mask, which he noticed resembled that of Darth Nihilus from Star Wars, though with extra designs. His breath hitched as it was slowly removed, and he gasped in horror at the sight.

Himself.

An older, more mature one, like that from the mirror, but it was definitely him, Harry. Hadrian Poterimus, a Dark Lord. Everyone was stunned as his fright merely grew, and every student took notice, realising he needed help, paralyzed with fear.

It wasn't possible. He wouldn't do that. Become that. He refused. And yet… it was clearly him. Possibly from the future.

Suddenly, Lupin jumped in front of it and for a split second it was a full moon, before it became a balloon running out of air, bringing down the tension, but never completely erasing it. Most looked at Harry in pity, helping him up, some in fear and a few grinned, as if it was some sort of secret weakness they could take advantage of. The entire atmosphere had gone completely, and the Professor ended the lesson there, giving them all an essay on Boggarts and their abilities. He nodded numbly and grabbed his bag, bolting to lunch.

By the time the meal was over everybody knew what happened in the class and what his greatest fear was. To some, it simply confirmed that he was the Heir of Slytherin and evil, for others, they merely recognized that he was afraid of actually becoming evil. He was just shivering as he kept going back to it, and when it came time for the next class, he walked to Hagrid's hut quite slowly.

While he was certainly excited for it, his mood was subdued the whole way there, not even Daphne, Liz, Trip, Draconus, Ronald and Hermione combined helped. Tom had simply sat quietly during the afternoon, recognizing his need to process everything but still giving quiet support. But for now, Harry looked up, putting a smirk on his face as Hagrid's first ever class would begin. With having completed his NEWTS with some assistance from Dumbledore and studying heavily under Newt Scamander, the half-giant felt confident it would work out. And Harry made sure it was safe before agreeing to participate.

When they reached the wood hut, reminding him of the Norberta incident, he looked around a bit warily until he spotted some tables a ways away. Meanwhile, Hagrid came out of his hut stomping, at least to him, with Fang alongside. His booming voice echoed throughout the grounds, excitement prevalent. Harry just gave a comforting yet confident look.

'Alrigh' class, I' go' a good treat for you lot! Come o'er to these tables, and there's a surprise awaitin'!' His grin was magnificent as everyone moved towards it. On each one were little green walking plants, clutching sticks in their tiny hands. Harry recognised them as Bowtruckles.

'These 'll be your new par'ners and if you want, you can keep 'em! But that'll have to wait until after the class. For now, we're learnin' about these, Bowtruckles! If you all do good o'er the year, I'll bring in a special surprise. But you need to show yourselves capable of responsibility and respect. To do this, you each will be watching o'er one bowtruckle a pair. If you don' feel you can do this, tell me now and I'll arrange a different assignment for you.' Nobody did, so he continued.

'Open your books, and the first person to do so gets 10 points.' He winked at Harry, who stroked the back and flipped open to the needed page.

'Ten to Ravenclaw! Now, 'ese things love bugs, so if you got a fly infes'ation, many order a few. The issue is, they die soon af'er, 'cause they belong in their normal trees. Now, you can keep one as a pet successfully, bu' it requires a bon'. Go 'round and find one that wants to bon' with ya, and if none do, I go' another assignment for ya.' Everyone looked around, and eventually Harry, along with Liz, Trip and Draconus, found a Bowtrukle that bonded to them, with his being especially cuddly and affectionate, even refusing to stay when the Ravenclaw put him back down.

While the rest of the class were taken over to see Flobberworms and would spend the rest of the semester on it, which made Harry incredibly glad he'd gotten one to bond with, including the others. Liz though, seemed more interested in the tree her bowtruckle had come from, which was supposed to be yew. When he questioned her why it was so special, she repeated Ollivander word by word. When he just seemed confused, she tried again.

'Yew is a notoriously hard wand wood to get, as they are typically born from an owner of such a wand sprouting and protecting the grave. But this one isn't, and I doubt even my Grandfather knows of it. I wanted to take a bit, as my own is yew, and craft something out of it. With a special connection by the very thing I channel my magic through, it should prove especially useful. If I may, what is yours made of?' She said, peering at him curiously.

'Ahhh… Vine and Aspen.' Her stare unnerved him.

'You shouldn't give such details out so freely, but alright. I am going to make you a new one, with Aspen as the wood, and Thestral tail hair. Yes, that will do quite nicely…' She began muttering to herself as he blinked, wondering how in the hell Trip withstood her. Magic was a wonderful and mysterious thing.

Eventually, class was coming to an end, and while Harry intended to leave his Bowtruckle with Hagrid to visit and feed occasionally, they clearly had other plans. When attempting to peel it off, their grasp only became stronger, and he idly wondered if they were part Hulk, as he'd seen in the American comics Dudley had bought.

"Get off of me, you bloody tree! I can't keep you, I've got too many animals with me as it is!' At this point none of them were pets, each a companion filling a different role. Gracie the voice of reason, Erebus for comfort, Nyx aloof yet amusing and followed him everywhere, small enough no one paid too much attention, and Hediwg was his dear Phoenix, who also provided an incredible level of emotional support. The bowtruckle was stubborn though, and in the end he gave up, to Hagrid's amusement.

'Look 'em up in the book, Harry, when they bond it's for life. They die with their chosen as well, typically breeding before doing so.' Looking into what he said, the information proved the man right, and he groaned before dropping the little wanker into his breast pocket, who squealed in joy as they began walking. As they did so, he thought of a name.

Liz named her Life, Trip gave him the name Stewart, or Stew, and Draconus's Bowtruckle was called Nut, in reference to his wand. It was difficult, as Vine seemed a bit too odd, and Aspen didn't sound right. When he asked for information on the two, Liz was right there and ready to tell.

'Vine is for those who have secrets, whose personality has many hidden depths that, when the original is broken, shows the real you. My family uses it because the Druids considered anything similar to a tree, in that it had a strong, woody stem, as good for a wand. The owners of Vine wands are typically quite ambitious and seek their goal, constantly surprising anyone who thinks they know them. They're typically a bit more sensitive to their new owner.' She said matter-of-factly, not unlike Hermione and academics.

'Aspen wand, as my Grandfather loves to say, is perfect for revolutionaries. It matches with Vine so well because those who wield it can be incredibly ambitious with their goals, almost always producing masterful duelists. Fltiwick's own is an Aspen wand. Those who wield it can be quite stubborn, and it's reputed that those who have Black Aspen, which is wrought out of an incident in the creation process, creates warlocks of such exceptional talent, that with the exception of only one, the user of them proves famous. Sheev Palpatine, for instance, had one, Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor, Dumbledore's original, even Percival and Marvolo.' She looked at him deeply, and he was slightly put-off.

'Who's the one?' It was Trip.

'Why, it's Harry, of course. Though I will admit his talents are quite prodigious, I imagine they will outshine the Boy-Who-Lived title soon enough. She only listed the qualities matching him specifically, or at least him in the future, even if she didn't know it. And trust me, that one will go back to zero soon enough.' Luna had skipped up, with an ethereal feeling to her voice, which made everyone shiver.

'Well, thank you Luna. I'm not sure i'm happy you're right, or deeply disturbed.'

—-

Harry was terribly bored. Everything was proving to be incredibly monotonous, and was killing his brain cells. First, he got up, then dressed, completed his morning ablutions, and went to his classes, half-paid attention as he designed what he hoped his lightsaber would appear when, if he was lucky, would manage to make one. While not a genius, he was still exceptionally intelligent, and keeping the base model simple would certainly help. He could expand on it later.

After classes, he worked on his wandless magic, having gotten halfway in his transfigurations. Considering it was nearing November, he wasn't exactly feeling confident. The Quidditch match was tomorrow, and they'd be playing against Slytherin. Tom, who'd managed the Seeker spot, wasn't feeling especially confident in his chances, but played arrogant in front of others, bragging about how he was going to win, much to Harry's amusement. He'd yet to lose a match, and had no intention of doing so now, even against his friend and with Dementors around the school.

After practicing his magic, he typically had a quidditch practice, which lasted ages as Roger Davies, who'd taken up captain of the team, had been attempting to be as fanatic as Oliver Wood, who had to back out of the match because their last seeker had graduated and were looking for a new one. Harry thought Ginny Weasley might do well, but he wasn't about to say anything. The twins were hard enough on their own, and been the main reason Gryffindor won the last two years, despite their seeker being absolutely dreadful. Following quidditch, he practiced flying with his newest wings for half an hour.

Then he wandered around the corridors, looking under carpets and around portraits as he sought out crystals to use. While he hadn't found a single one, and was beginning to lose hope, his confidence had only wavered slightly as he spent at least an hour every night, planning on finally attempting the Chamber of Secrets soon. But before that, he would ask Dobby.

After searching for more crystals, he spent 2 hours studying in the library with his friends, who had begun seeing him less and less. His excuse had always been he had some extra lesson, which while true on saturdays and sundays, was not so useful during the week. His isolation had begun to make him feel a bit odd, so he resolved to let Tom in on the secret of the crystals, and they'd begin hunting them together.

Right now he was stuck with McGonagall lecturing on a subject he'd already learned. It was about Merlinites, and magic. Honestly, sometimes the connotations magic shared with star wars were incredible, until he always thought back on the incredible differences between the two, with the only real similarity somewhat being made up of the Force and Magic itself though he supposed it was always possible star wars were based on legends of ancient wizards who'd mastered wandless magic.

'Merlinites are the measurement used in how much magic a body can hold, and the basic unit for magic itself. For example, your magical power is how many tens of merlinites are in each cell, with the higher amount meaning the more your body can channel and use when casting a spell. They all secrete the low levels produced by your core, thus tainting the magic pulled in by them.' Harry rolled his eyes, choosing to focus on his book, one that told of the legends of Harry Potter, laughing at all the fictitious things said of his childhood, ignorant to the stern professors calm walk towards him.

'They can be found in the air as well, in every single object and animal that has any magical element whatsoever. While Muggles lack magic completely, a rare few, typically descended from squibs, might have one or two a cell, as well as a magical core that produces no magic. These are the ones that may breed with squibs and-very rarely- a wizard, though typically that one must be very weak.' Now she had descended upon the boy, who remained entirely oblivious.

'Should such talent be wasted by, oh say, _not paying attention.'_ McGonagall said dangerously, and his friends tried to catch his attention. 'Then you may very well find that these creatures dislike being ignored, and may very well backfire when you need them most. One point from Ravenclaw, Mr Potter.' Harry finally looked up, and gulped at the glare he received. Deciding quickly, he shut the book and paid attention the rest of class, despite the fact he knew it all. Never hurt to ensure, even if this was merely theory, and the more recent science proved merlinites we almost certainly fake, and it was connected to the soul like Dumbledore had stated.

Next was History of Magic, and now he finally got a chance to sleep. Pulling his pillow out of his bag, which he'd charmed extra comfy, the door swung open and he sat beside Tom, planning on informing him of his quest before napping. But of course, a wrench was thrown into his plans as Binns spoke of the one thing that really interested him, Magical Religion.

While he'd heard a few words thrown around, even used a couple, he hadn't quite understood it, and few books spoke of them. The one book dedicated to it in the library always seemed to be checked out. He knew there was an afterlife, supposedly called Heaven, there was a King Magic, Lady of Rationality and Lord of Foresight, with the Greek Gods possibly influencing them. So he quickly whispered as fast as he could to his friend before the lecture, pulling out his notes.

'Psst, Tom!'

'What, Harry?'

'You know how i've been wandering around in the afternoon?' He slid open to a fresh page with his ink and quill ready.

'Yeah…' His friend had already placed down his pillow, having gone over this, and too tired from AStronomy that night.

'Well, I've been looking for some special crystals, and could use your help.'

'Well, why are they important?'

'I can't say, it's just lonely looking by myself, and could use an extra hand.' Binns had taken his place at his lectern, and was about to speak. He stared pleadingly at Tom.

'I suppose, meet you outside the Great Hall at four.' He said, still sceptical, Harry nodded and looked towards the professor.

'Magical Religion is a topic of much secrecy among the wizarding world, and I've been given special permission to teach it this class, so you best pay attention.' His monotonous tone put most to sleep, he didn't even look up to check. 'Some of the most prominent you will know, The King of Magic, The Lady of Rationality, and Lord of Foresight. The Irony is each one was originally the Roman gods Jupiter, Minerva and Neptune, before Magicals split off and looked towards a different light. The irony being held in that the Greek god Zeus, Poseidon, Hades, Athena, Demeter, and Hera all make a notable appearance in Magical religious texts.'

'While Apollo and Artemis appear as well, they are relatively minor. But none make quite as distinct an impact as the main three, which are all heralded as those of Creation, each one creating one aspect of life, then taking on their roles held in the title.' He cleared his throat, which Harry had never heard him do, but supposed he was typically passed out by now. 'The King of Magic created, obviously, Magic, Rationality crafted bodies, and Foresight added details, with the latter two working together to create genes, which would pass on the necessary traits for these details and magic itself.'

'Many believe that it was the King himself who made muggles, extracting genes necessary for magic to exist in several children, allowing them to breed much easier than magicals, but also preventing them access to this life-giving force. Others believe it was a freak accident, when a magical drank the wrong combination of potions that altered his DNA, creating more. In the end, nobody really knows.' Harry was feeling more awake than ever as he wrote them down, surpassing even Hermione In notes.

'The chain of command in magical religion goes as follows: King of Magic, Lady of Rationality, Lord of Forethought, Poseidon, Hera, Zeus, Hades, Athena, Demeter. Some choose to worship a particular God more than others, but in the end the almighty is always the King of Magic. The rest of the Greek and Roman Gods, seperate in our own culture, all make an appearance, each representing a pureblood family. Eventually, when a Muggleborn has raised their children and if their name lives on for two generations, their descendant officially becomes a half-blood, thus choosing a God for their name, then in three more it is officially a pureblood house.' He paused, and looked at his most attentive student in several generations directly.

'This has most recently occurred in Mr Potter's own, with Miss Evans, his mother. But as there has been a severe decline in new houses as Muggleborns are decreasing and choosing to marry into already present families, it's amount of happenings have become rather rare lately. Some purebloods though, have chosen to set out and create a name for themselves, should their family have too many children, such as the weasley's, thus creating another method for more houses to appear, and many expect some of their children to break off and create a new house.' He moved on, tus decreasing Harry's interest. Really, it was quite simple, but as he was curious, he raised his hand.

'Yes, Mr Potter?'

'If I may sir, what are the Gods for the more prominent houses?' Binns looked surprised at the question, before sorting through his notes, letting out a loud ahh, and began reading them off, which Harry quickly scrawled down.

'The Shadeslayer family, as the first, has the King watching over them, and their cadet branches hold the next two, Peverell the Lady, Emrys the Lord.' When Harry didn't look satisfied, he continued.

'The Potermius family is represented by Poseidon, Black by Hera, Gryffindor by Zeus, Bones by Hades, then in the main chain of command it proceeds Longbottom, Fawley, with Slytherin represented by Hecate, the next highest goddess.' He finished and moved back to his lecture, but Hermione interrupted him.

'Why is Gryffindor before Slytherin, and wouldn't Slytherin be higher? It was a champion of Blood Purity, so I would have thought it one of the oldest.' Her bossy tone clearly intoning she thought herself right.

'Yes well, they are still very old, in the top ten, but Gryffindor is far older, being a cadet branch of the Poterimus, which would mean, if the main line has died out, the responsibility of that line falls upon whomever own the line that birthed it, rather than the most recent cut-off, unlike ancient muggle lords. So, if they have, Mr Potter here would be the future Lord Gryffindor.' He immediately returned to the lecture, dropping that bomb on everyone as Harry hesitantly smiled, and simply focused on trying to sleep once more.

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	24. Starchaser

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

There he was, standing in the locker rooms. Harry had been practicing endlessly, pushed to the brink by Roger so that he'd prevent the other seeker from getting it and, if the Slytherins proved to have a better team, catch as quickly as possible. He had no doubt that while the snitch wouldn't have been hard to spot in normal daylight, Roger was banking more on luck in the incredible downpour.

The impervious charm was easily learned wandlessley in two days, as it was one of the first they ever learned, but it had also taken two days from Transfiguration practice. He groaned as he could hear Ravenclaw's cheers as the others stepped out, and he took one last glance at the room, considering his chances. After all, he was last, so perhaps he could still run away? Cho wasn't bad, far from it, but her tactics did rely more on distraction and Draconus hadn't seemed to awaken to girls yet.

The entire area was the mahogany wood the entire school seemed to favour, with metal cabinets for clothing and hangars at each side of the walls. To the far end was the bathroom, and the girls had a seperate area connected by a doorway that lead into the main hanger, as apparently in Hogwarts girls were turstworthy and boys were stupid perverts. The Slytherins had a locker room right next to them, the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor being at the opposite sides. The benches were polished quite well, considering the shabby look to the rest of it, and he supposed some player had once decided splinters were very unpleasant in the arse.

His own uniform had a large, silver, number seven on the back, with a smaller one on the front. It was primarily blue with bronze chippings. The black linings were misleading, as each one held small warming charms the other teams hadn't seemed to figure out yet. He decided not to practice that particular spell, or any other unless strictly necessary, wandlessley until he finished basic transfiguration. After all, it'd be dead useful as a surprise in a duel.

Eventually, a whistle was blown and he heard cheers as the Slytherins began stepping out, making him feel a bit queasy. Would they cheer like that for him, or would it be dead silence? Realising his thoughts were bringing him nowhere pleasant, he focused on the badge pinned to his uniform. Each player had one, unless they either had no house or were unaware of it, or just didn't care. Personally, he had wanted to demonstrate his loyalty, so he pinned it on.

Unique to him, it was the Ravenclaw eagle with a Raven above it, a Griffin below and two wands, one black, one stark white, on either side. It represented his two main houses, Potter and Black. Hopefully, he could eventually add Hogwarts, if he ever got down to the Chamber. He resolved to do so once the match was over, and while everyone was asleep. He and Tom already agreed it would probably be best if he claimed it, so he could simply add Hogwrats rather than some three names he'd have to sign on every letter.

Eventually, the whistle blew one last time and with no other options, he sprinted out, jumped on his trusty Nimbus Two Thousand he'd bought as soon as he'd gotten the chance last year. With so much money, why leave it wasting away? It was still being invested, which left him a fair fifty-thousand for personal use a year. As it was one of the first things he'd gotten that he knew would always be prevalent in his life, it was on par with several other possessions dear to his heart. Only the Marauders Map, made by his Father and his friends, The Invisibility Cloak that had belonged to his family for generations, theoretically also a Hallow, the album of photos of his parents personally weaved by Hagrid, and his wand were on par or above, though he did look at the album every night.

Carefully flying up and weaving around the goal posts, he landed with the rest of his team in the center, who flipped a galleon for their side. His won and got the one with slightly smaller posts, and flew into position. He chose the Crow's nest at the top, observing the was an excellent keeper, and did wonderfully under pressure, but against the Slytherin, all was fair in war. He'd been hit a dozen times by bludgers, and the boy had lost a tooth. Thankfully, Pomfrey had been able to grow it back. Unfortunately, it caused the boy to lose some nerve.

But Harry was ready, kicking away a ball that was heading for the posts which Roger, who hesitated one in every ten shots because he thought he saw one of the metal balls coming, had missed. The Slytherins booed, but He just bathed in the cheers that were much more prevalent in the other three houses. While his typical style wasn't so aggressive, the Slytherin dirty style called for it, and he wanted his team to get more points before he caught the Snitch.

Kicking away the Quaffle from Marcus Flint, he noticed the score: 140-60 in favour of Ravenclaw. Roger had wanted them one hundred points ahead before the golden ball was caught, so he taunted Draconus a bit, trying to buy time. Of course, they failed and he just sighed, swooping down and making different shapes. The heavy downpour was a nuisance, but he'd practiced hard in it, so the extra weight didn't bother him. Thus he could do loop-de-loops mid-air, jump down and grab his broom with one hand to stop a quaffle pass, and dive down hard.

He wasn't a professional seeker by any means, but simple tricks were in his range. Victor Krum was well down for his incredible dives, and while his were certainly quite dramatic, only a few of his opponents ever bought their validity. Cedric Diggory hadn't fallen for one, the older boy proving to be his only real competition. But his muscles were finally growing fatigued, when he noticed they were in the lead by over a hundred points.

Quickly flying to the top, his enhanced vision looked around, tapping a rune he'd carved on his glasses to allow him better vision at night, which simply stacked on his hawk's sight, thus allowing him to see near-perfectly. Time was a pressing issue, as the longer he spent the higher the chance Slytherin had of catching up once more, so he flipped around for a better vantage. He spun around and around his broom, trying to see even the faintest glint of gold.

That's when he spotted it. While under his broomstick, making another round he looked up and saw the snitch! Quickly flying upward, Draconus spotting him and attempting to follow, he was nearly there, when he heard screams. Whipping his head around, he saw no one nearby, until he realised they were inside his head. Also, his vision was blurry, ice forming alone his arm as he just touched the small ball. This was wrong, his vision hadn't failed him in ages!

Just when he snagged it, a lightning strike came down, and over a hundred Dementors were illuminated, to the faint calls of the crowd while he began to pass out. Draconus attempted to catch him, but when one of the creatures hovered too close to the other boy, he too fainted out of fear, a small yellow stream behind him. His vision growing smaller and smaller, he held his hand in front of him, looking at his reward, and smiled. He'd won. Then, he passed out.

When he awoke in the Hospital wing, he groaned. Every year, somehow, someway, he landed here. Beside him were his friends all sleeping Erebus at his feet, Nyx curled up by his side as HEdwig sat on the headboard, trilling softly as she rested. Even Twig, as he'd chosen to name his bowtruckle, was splayed in his breast pocket, and he could detect the faintest sound of snoring from the small creature. He smirked slightly, and sighed. He'd been stripped of his main robes, lying in dry trousers and his undershirt under a warm blanket. In his hand, still lay the cold metal of the Snitch, and he sighed as he realised he really had won.

Eventually, he heard voices coming toward him as all his friends moaned slowly awakening. His smirk grew and the voices eventually reached the door, pulling it open as he saw Dumbledre, Flitwick, and the rest of his team come inside. That was when Hermione noticed he was awake.

'Harry, oh Harry, I'm so sorry! I'm ever so glad you're alright, everyone was so worried when you fell! Dumbledore saved you. But he was so angry at the Dementors!' She hugged him tightly, burying her head in his shoulder.

'It's alright, Hermione, I'm fine. Now, look at me.' She pulled back, and he brushed away her fringe as he looked her dead in the eyes. 'Did Ravenclaw win?' She blushed, as she didn't nod her head.

'Neither one won, and nobody could find the snitch afterwards, so the game en-' She was cut off as Daphne leaned in to hug him, but he stiffened and she looked away, Harry missing her disappointed face near tears. That was when everybody else came by, and he raised the snitch in hand.

'Well, looks like we won after all. Well done Harry, though perhaps next time don't try killing yourself in the process.' Roger said, grinning. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with a proud gleam as he inspected it, and gave it to Hooch who was standing nearby, announcing Ravenclaw had officially won, cancelling the rematch.

He listened as everybody congratulated him, focusing instead on the pile of sweets nearby, giving some to a hungry looking Ronald who devoured them eagerly. His dislike of Bertie Bott's extended far, and it was significantly easier just to give the bottomless pit them, seeing as how he never chewed them long enough to tell what flavour it was. He preferred his Chocolate frogs, as warmth seeped through him and he read the card, Agrippa. Deciding Ronald had earned a gift from eating his least favourite sweets and apparently missing breakfast, the boy thanked him profusely as Harry waved it off.

Everybody but Daphne seemed in high spirits, though she dodged his questions on why as she sat there, seemingly sulking. When Hermione had offered to talk, she went bright red, and ignored the girl, sinking even deeper as the girl went back to spend time with Harry. The Matron wanted him a bit longer for observation, and Dumbledore informed him that after the entire public yelling at Cornelius and his secretary, Umbirdge, for this incident, the amount of Dementors had been severely decreased, with roughly one hundred or so, as before there had been maybe three. It had increased to two after there had been an incident in Gryffindor Tower, and Dolores Umbridge, the apparent speaker for the Minister, just informed everyone it was necessary. Erebus whimpered at these comments.

As he thought back, he had noticed something odd. Rather than try and suck out his soul, as would be expected, the Dementors had seemingly bowed, his passing out a mere accident due to their auras. But he waved it off as a trick of the lightning, and just continued to entertain his guests. Of course, they were all kicked out when Pomfrey arrived at six, telling them he needed his rest. As he laid his head back, he focused on the little Bowtruckle attempting to catch a fly. Amused, he carefully guided the bug to his companion, who reached out, snagged it, and tore into the head, much to Harry's displeasure.

After that gruesome sight he desperately wished for sleep, which soon arrived. It had been a pleasant afternoon.

When he was released, the first thing he did was head to breakfast, where he filled his plate. Daphne seemed somewhat distant, but he paid it no mind. These events didn't last long, and he knew far too little about girls to be able to help. All he could do, and did, was ask Hermione to question the girl, but got no answer to his response when he brought it up later, leading him to believe it was something especially private, so he instead put his attention to Professor Vector in their Arithmancy class.

Arithmancy was a fascinating subject, essentially the equivalent of magical maths, though at first it simply taught that which was present in muggle primary. Now they had gone into the theory of creating their own spell, and would do so the next year, but were encouraged to begin experimenting now, with either a professor or student chaperone. All sorts of things could go wrong, which was why the theory was taught before anyone ever tried. A few unfortunate incidents happened before, but typically most listened.

He was creating the arithmantic formula for a teeth-cleaning one, eliminating the need for brushing, which he'd been surprised to learn didn't already exist as most relied on potions to keep nice teeth, when Vector came over. The professor was kind, and her heart-shaped face had crinkled lines, which were the sole demonstrator of her age. Her robes always seemed perfectly pressed, and without a speck of dirt. Her black hair reached her shoulders, along her forearm was a long scar she refused to speak of. Many students had speculated.

As he tried his best to work the formula, occasionally asking Hermione or Vector for advice. He turned to Daphne, who was trying to finish her own, and questioned why she was acting rather icily today. His only response was a curt 'None of your Business' and going back to it, leaving him dejected as his focus deteriorated. Eventually, Hermione noticed, told him to cheer up, and that Daphne would calm down eventually.

He desperately wanted to believe her, but it continued for the next week, his every attempt for an answer rebuffed. Eventually, as he was far too busy and unable to meet with her, began ignoring her too, as payback. If she wanted to try the silent treatment, he'd give it right back. So that was the entirety of the week, until he got a chance to visit the chamber.

Flitwick had cancelled his lesson, feeling ill, so Harry seized the opportunity immediately, heading to the girls bathroom, which drove thoughts of Daphne out of his mind. Sliding down, he reached the snake doorway, commanded it open and stepped into the dank chamber. While nothing had changed, even the Basilisk had yet to even begin decomposing, he could sense a different air around him. As if something had shifted.

Moving towards the snake carving he'd noticed before, he hissed open, and the bricks moved back, revealing a study. The inside was simple, with dark bricks, green velvet lining the bookshelves filled with rows upon rows of books, a chair seated at the desk. And in the center, was a pedestal, where lay a ring on a soft, green and silver velvet pillow. The pedestal itself was a white marble, and he eagerly moved forward, picking up the ring and looking it over.

It's emerald green gem was simple, with a black snake carved into it, radiating power. The band was silver, with small carvings of different initials, SS, RR, GG, and HH, the founders. It brought a chuckle as he realised how stupidly coincidental that was. Hesitating, he pulled it on and felt power flow through him, as the entire object shifted.

In its place was the exact same band, but four tiny gems that each had the appropriate animals of a lion, eagle, badger, and snake. All were carved wonderfully into a. H, with the legs and tail all hooked together. A ruby, sapphire, emerald, and citrine, with the animals carved in black. At the top, carefully inlaid, was Hogwarts, and lying at the bottom was Semper Unitum, and he smiled. The Hogwarts ring, United Forever.

He looked up, as his right hand was decorated with four rings, Poterimus on his middle, Black on his ring, Palpatine on his little, and Hogwarts on his index. The Pedestal has also changed, with a paper laid upon it in place of the pillow, and picked it up. The parchment was rough and yellow, ink faded but still visible. Carefully sitting at the chair by the desk, he read it thoroughly.

_Dear Descendant,_

_Our times are coming to a close, and we wish to leave you this message, in case History has made a terrible mistake. Our lives have been fraught with peril, but through it all we've stayed true, holding onto our goals and each other. Mucb to the point our children have grown just as close. But Salazar was a fool, for once in his life, embracing the traits that made I great but not him. Rowena has fallen from heartache, and oh the irony that our most logical witch should die such a sad death. I am on my deathbed, with Helena defending our most precious creation, second only to our children-Hogwarts._

_If you've received this, it means that the Castle stands and we were successful, but in her haste she fell too, thus unable to free the ring from it's confines in Salazar's chamber, locked though it is with Parseltongue., she retains a recording to be destroyed upon her death. I have left this here, to be received after the ring, to tell you the honest truth- Unity is true. It is happiness, it is incredulity, and it is laughter. But, it is also death, sadness, and loss. I was given the choice, and I chose Unity. But what did it cost me? A Brother, and Sisters. My Wife, even. In my drunken rage I thought I could bring her back, scoured the Earth for a relic thought legend. Oh look at me, I'm rambling._

_I am told I must teach you of the consequences of actions, to show you everything that could happen if you decide one path. For Darkness is in your future, young Heir, Rowena foresaw it, but we do not wish to see you die. Even in the terrible future that may come if you live, we cannot see the last of our true Blood die. So We have given you this library, filled with ancient texts, and our memoirs. It is with these you decide the truth. Your truth. My mind is failing me now and I will say this:_

_Unity is sad, yet it is Glorious. Companionlessnes is Grey, yet it is Peaceful. But you must not seek friends freely, to do so you must find those who are of true loyalty, and allow them to join you. Because Betrayal is the worst kind of pain, far more than loss or grief, at least in those rare occurrences you know they were by your side as long as they could. But Betrayal means they have been going against you since the beginning, even if they did not know it. In times of chaos you shall see your real friends, and you must pull them tight. Keep them close, and say, that they will not have to feel this pain. Not on my watch. I did it for as long as I could._

_I wish you will see the foolishness in forgiveness, for all it does is allow them to betray you again._

_Godric Gryffindor_

As Harry sat there, stewing over the note, he analyzed it in his mind. Clearly Godric's mind had been failing, as much of the note was nonsense he spewed as death was coming down, but the last line was real. He had to decide who was a true friend, and the best way was through real hardship. Last year gave him a taste, but it was far from genuinely difficult, because his friends didn't get quite as much grief he did. Draconus and Luna pissed people off so much they didn't need a real push, but even after being injured they stayed with him.

He didn't know about Daphne anymore; He was once sure of her loyalty, but ever since last year she had been distant, which did not seem like true friendship to him. Hermione was incredibly loyal, but her blind acceptance of authority figures might get him killed one day. Trip was alright, but he suspected if the boy saw even a sprinkle of what he suspected was evil, he'd turn on him in a heartbeat.

Tom seemed alright, but he really had no events to say whether he was really loyal. As for Ronald… the boy was a wild card. Despite jealousy and an inferiority complex, the boy was loyal. But he also gave into social pressure. He'd try to maintain some connection, but in the end would go with the flow. Neville had the same application for a while, but now, with more self-confidence Harry was certain that if faced with a tough situation in staying or abandoning him in some form of crisis that might get him killed if he stayed, the boy would stick by his side. Now, he just needed an event that would test that.

For the moment, he'd simply focus on reading these books and learning as much as he could. Picking off a nameless book, he opened it, reading off 'Bravery and Courage- Godric Gryffindor.' Placing it back, he searched for one that would give the true answer to what happened at the end of their lives, whether it was the Goblins, Wizards, or something else. When he found it, after placing it in his bag and choosing the series that was their entire set of memoirs, he closed it back up and headed out, calling for Hedwig.

Right now, he needed to clear his head, and had no idea what to do. Everything seemed so confusing, and now he was questioning his future, and the loyalties of his friends. What could he do, to prove that they'd stay by his side? His detection charms only gave immediate threats, not those of the future. Gaaa, Why couldn't Gryffindor be straight with his answers!? Eventually, frustrated with everything, he flicked out his wand.

Walking over to a nearby boulder, he began casting the exploding curse. He channeled his rage and pushed himself. Daphne. Gryffindor. Slytherin. Hogwarts. Dumbledore. His projects. Time. The contract. Fickle People. The future. Darkness. Hsi friends. Every single thing that frustrated him, pushed him forward as he threw them over and over relentlessly.

'Bombarda!' Over and over until it was rubble, and he finished. Panting and looking over his shoulder, he spotted Erebus, looking up and whining. With a sigh, he walked over and patted his head, sitting down and breathing. Falling deep into his meditation, he decided to get in some wandless magic.

Now that his anger was nearly dissipated, he looked over the events of the day with a fresh perspective. Godric was not at fault, the man had been dying, but he still had no idea what to do about Daphne. As for his future… that was something he could do nothing about. He'd turn evil, or he would not. All he could do was fight, and try not to fall himself.

Sitting with Erebus was a wonderful experience, even with the terrible aura the Dementors gave off. He needed to feel peace, and the only way he'd get that was through acceptance. So, looking over the past events, acknowledging them, then deciding to move on rather than try and get justice or revenge, he breathed deeply.

Now relaxed, he got up and moved to the Great Hall for lunch. Kidney pie sounded really good right now, and with Erebus whining for food he knew he'd be unable to resist his puppy eyes. Smiling happily, he missed the repaired boulder, and Dumbledore looked upon him in sadness, and worry.

The future seemed far too ambiguous.

**Read & Review Plz**


	25. Guess I'll Hang my Tear our to Dry

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

Hogsmeade weekend was today, and Harry was nervous. He'd gotten Vernon to sign off on his by way of a threat, but that wasn't what he was scared about. Daphne had asked him out, and purely out of fear of her parents had he accepted. He still didn't want to really talk with her after ignoring him for so long, but in the end it was either that or castration and possible death. He really didn't want to think about it.

So he was looking in the mirror and deciding what to wear. His wardrobe seemed inadequate, but he was trying to make do. A deep blue shirt, or his normal dark emerald? Black trousers, or brown? Honestly, it was stupidly hard, he'd never really given a damn about his appearance before and now it suddenly mattered.

Grabbing the emerald and black, never a bad combination for him, he slipped on his pullover and walked out the dorm, ignoring the wolf whistles from his classmates. Sometimes they were disgusting pigs, he had to admit, too focused on their perverted fantasies they'd never get to act out. Thankfully, Trip was at the end of the stairs waiting for Liz, so he wasn't totally alone. At times he wondered if the other boy had it easier, despite having a less than pleasant home life, but at least he got along with his betrothed.

When he spotted Daphne though, his breath left him. Her black hair waving behind her sapphire dress, with crystal shoes he was certain were taken right out of a fairy tale. Those blue eyes were piercing, but held a warmth he couldn't believe. While not on the best of terms, perhaps they could forget that for some time, and followed her arm down to the emerald purse in hand, making him blush a bit.

He felt a flutter in his stomach, but tried desperately to ignore it as a blush stained his cheeks. His own outfit, simple yet elegant with the near-black dragonhide loafers gave the girl her own blush, as while he could never master his hair, it had its own charm, with incredible emerald eyes glowing behind square black glasses, whose small runic decorations enhanced their feel.

Eventually, they got over themselves, as he looked behind his shoulder as they walked hand in hand, staring at Trip and Liz. Her caramel hair was done in a bun, with fair skin and blue eyes that had shifted after an accident in potions into amber swirling with purple. There would be no permanent damage, but they would stay that colour for the rest of her life. She hardly seemed upset by it though, calling it her unique little thing.

She wore beautiful deep, royal purple robes that matched Trips. His brown hair with natural blonde highlights combed nicely, a bit of hair gel to keep the front up, and pale green eyes with a small circle of brown that looked like a forest. He carried Elizabeth's hand with a grace Harry wished he had. They looked wonderfully together, and the boy felt a bit of jealousy well up. But he quickly released it, no need to breed resentment, especially when they were not at fault.

The two couples made their way down to the main hall, Filch was letting students out, but thankfully He had smoothed things over with the old man, demonstrating to him that while technically a squib, he could still perform the light charm, meaning that while there was very little of it, he was still a wizard. So when they walked up, Argus simply nodded and moved on, as Harry gave a small smirk.

They entered the Thestral-drawn carriages that helped cement the fairy-tale feel, with a window overlooking the front but an oak roof, preventing the wind from messing with someone's appearance. The inside was a four foot wide bench, velvet lining it as cushioning charms were practically spat around, allowing for a comfortable journey despite the typically bumpy ride. Thestrals were not meant to carry humans.

While waiting for the landing, there was an awkward silence neither seemed to be able to break, drawn from the days upon weeks of not speaking to each other. They both breathed a sigh of relief when it landed, and he helped Daphne down as they began wandering the streets, seperating from the others. He hadn't been to Hogsmeade more than once, as he was too busy, and only for a quick trip to the Three Broomsticks.

When he actually began looking, it was quite a pleasant place, quiet, quaint, and undisturbed. It was enjoyable. Yet, it also brought a sense of melancholy as he looked it over. Had his parents not died, he would have likely visited it before with his parents, as a well-known wizarding hotspot. Daphne admitted that she had gone before Hogwarts several times, which only made him feel worse. If it hadn't been for Voldemort, perhaps they could have grown up together, and gotten along.

Making his decision in a split-second, he dragged her inside the Hogs Head, a run down pub with cracked wood, dirty glasses, shady people, and an old barkeep who looked suspiciously like Dumbledore. Pushing that thought out of his mind, he sat his betrothed down in front of him, determined to end this argument. It was unnecessary and simply causing more pain.

'Daphne, what's wrong? You've been distant since the Quidditch match, and as we're about to go on holiday, I'd like to deal with this before it becomes worse.' He was quick, grasping the girl's hands to keep her from running away.

'It's just… you're always hanging around Hermione, and I'm scared you fancy her. We're betrothed, yes, but I do feel… something for you. I don't know what it is, really, but I want to see you become your absolute best self, and if you push me away, I can't do that. You taking my hand this morning was the first physical touch we had in ages, but I don't know why.' As if burnt, he quickly slid away, and ducked his head.

'Your parents warned me that if I ever did anything to hurt you, or touched you in any way until you were ready they would castrate me, or even kill me. I do not want to piss them off, because they didn't sign the contract, so I'm scared how much they threaten is real, and I know they blame me for it.' Daphne's eyes widened, as she processed it all. It was her parents that caused this strife. By doing what they did, they indirectly hurt her.

'I… I don't know what to say. I don't know what I can say. I mean… how could they do that? They always want to look out for me, but that's so cruel! Except… I don't know what to do now. Every time they've done something for me it's for my own good. I just don't know whether this is really that, or if they're foolish. Is there anything we can do to fix this? To make it work?' She was pleading with him, but he looked away, downcast.

'If I piss them off, they could kill me. Do you want that?' She shook her head, and he flinched slightly at how harsh his words came out. 'Look, I don't want something to happen, only to be ripped away when your parents come crashing in because they don't like me. It'll only hurt you, and I don't want that.' She nodded, as Harry stood up, and moved to exit before she grasped his hand.

'Please… There's nothing?' He shook his head as her heart broke for the very first time, and cried into her hands. Harry felt tears silently run down his cheek as he moved away. Everything felt so… evil. The world had done it, her parents were to blame, the Dursleys for making him believe the threats of fools.

When he sat down on a rock some ways away from the village, he slumped. Because of his idiocy, because he wasn't Brave and Bold, strong, he'd likely ended any chance of them building a relationship in school and having a happy marriage. He wondered if he would ever have children, and for just a moment- in his teenage mess of a hormonal mind- he thought he could end it. Take his own life, and she had a chance at a happy future, he'd be free from his pain. No parents, no real family, even the prospects of a happy marriage with children were getting dimmer. It only lasted a second.

Rage coursed through him as he became angry, and released his wand from it's holster. He stood up, wiping away his tears as he focused on one single goal. Destruction.

'**BOMBARDA!**' Everything blew up around him as he was flung back from the force of the aftershock, buried in dirt and dust as all energy seeped from him and he passed out.

Trip was having a wonderful date. Liz was incredible, and he hoped they'd be successful. Her interest in wand lore and crafting along with his fascination with the natural world had proved to be an explosive combination. They had visited just about every shop, and were inside Zonko's right now. He'd heard from the twins it was just about the best joke shop in Magical Britain, and as they had visited them all, he figured they were likely right.

It's Black Oak wood was cracked in places as dim light hung from the ceilings, shelves upon shelves of products lining it. From Dungbombs to exploding Doves it amazed him. He spotted the perfect gift for Ginny, who was friends with Liz and he'd gotten to know somewhat well, as he bought a couple attack watches. Looking around, nothing really seemed to appeal to him. Hoping for more, he sought out the Twins, who were hiding among the stacks, no doubt planning a prank.

'Oy, Gred, Forge, How's it going?' he jogged up, as the stacks were quite a ways long, and they were in the middle.

'Nothing much, just…'

'Planning a prank on…'

'Some 7th year Slyherin being a bit bold with our women' They finished, grinning at each other.

'Must you keep up with that twin-speak? You could put the effort for that into something that needs it. I've heard of a few of your products, and I'm sure they'd be even better if you focused more.' He said, groaning.

'I suppose you're right. What do you say, Forge?' At this, Trip looked closer for the identifier Harry had told him about but didn't specify on.

'Well, I guess. But it will be disappointing not pissing powerful people off.' All he knew was it was on George, so where was it… Aha!

'You're George, He's Fred!' He exclaimed, directing a finger at each corresponding twin.

'Well.. yeah, how did you know? We thought we'd made it impossible to see, did Harry tell you!?' Fred said, sighing.

'No. Well, he told me it was there and was on George. But I had to look closely and barely made it out. I assume your mother knows as well?' They nodded.

'Yeah, she's the one that did it, actually. Got tired of not being able to tell her precious sons apart, since we are literally identical in every way physically, with only the slightest differences mentally. And seriously, Identical twins are IDENTICAL, in every way physically.' George responded, emphasising the word.

'Well, you are right. One of you is slightly more introverted than the other, and the other one is tidier. I just haven't been able to figure out which was which. Now, I just need to keep observing.' They smiled, said their goodbyes and walked on, looking for an interesting item.

Spotting something in one of the corners, he looked closer. Watching behind him, he kneeled and broke them off. The entire area was dark and had a musty feel, as if it hadn't been cleaned in ages. But considering there wasn't a speck of dust, he figured it was just from age, as they were only supposed to form in old, magic-rich locations. Remembering Harry telling him about the crystals he was searching for, he slipped them into his pocket, and moved on,

Placing his items on the counter, he waited for Liz to finish before he paid for both, winking at his betrothed as they stepped out. The sunlight was blinding for a moment, and he spotted the famed Candy Shop. It was supposed to have the best sweets in the entirety of Wizarding Britain, though that was said a lot about the things in Hogsmeade, so he wondered how many were true, and how many were lies made up by the shopkeepers.

Heading towards Honeydukes, his excitement only grew. After this shop, they'd head over to the Three Broomsticks, where he'd arranged with Rosmerta to get their drinks placed at their table immediately so they didn't waste time. He'd learned her favourite quickly, Butterbeer. What a surprise. Personally, he preferred Paris tea, but that was him.

Eventually, they entered the shop, with a duty window displaying a bunch of sweets, faded lettering overlooking the students as they walked inside. It had a warm, homey feel with yellow lighting that lit up the wood, which he couldn't name off the top of his head. It looked far too processed for him, though. He held his date's arm, as they moved about, looking for sugar quills, which were his favourite. She liked Cauldron Cakes, and when she occasionally offered him one he couldn't say it was bad.

He also got some liquorice wands, pumpkin pasties, and Fudge flies, the latter as a present for Liz. Snagging a couple Chocolate frogs for Harry, he bought them and then stepped out, looking around for what was next. While they had a plan, it was certainly flexible if there was something interesting. Waving hello to Tom, who looked severely confused with Luna on his arm, the two moved across the street to the friendly pub.

While it was packed inside, he had specially reserved a booth for them to talk. She was a bit confused when Rosmerta smiled at the two and placed the drinks in front of them, but didn;t complain as she took a swig from the bottle. A bit uncomfortable, he waited for her to start the conversation.

'So, what do you think of Harry's new idea, to create the lightsabers from star wars?' He hummed as if pensive, before giving his answer.

'While an interesting concept, and I know he's got the idea locked down, there's no way to power it. So even though I do want one, it just seems impossible.' She nodded along.

'I suppose you're right. I was just really holding out hope, we could be our own Jedi Order!' She said, joking as Trip laughed along with her.

'Although, considering how much Harry does the impossible, I would really prefer improbable, in the end. After all, he's nearly died several times, but gotten out of it surprisingly intact. If anyone could find a way to build a lightsaber, it would be him.' They both laughed, and continued joking for a while.

Eventually, they left, Trip having already paid the check, and as they reached the carriages once again, it felt a bit cold as they came closer, with Liz taking his coat to very little protest. They stepped inside, sitting on the blue cushions as the Thestral took them away, back to the castle. The entire time they grinned like idiots, and when it came to a halt, she gave the boy a big kiss on the cheek, before going inside. He grinned like an idiot, standing there before heading back.

Walking around the grounds, he pondered his life so far. He'd had a nasty home life, with an evil step mum who hated him for taking the Fawley and Shafiq lines. And when his father had died, it had gotten far worse, with nobody to protect him.

Though, as she was a firm believer in Blood-Purity, she didn't make him do any chores or labour-intensive work. However, that did not prevent her from taking out her anger in the form of curses, paying a very, very large amount of gold to keep those who monitored such events quiet, as he suffered what seemed to be an eternal torment. Thankfully, he received his Hogwarts letter, which meant freedom from the horrid witch for nine months out of the year. Unfortunately, he learned quite quickly that her punishments worsened when she couldn't hurt him every day.

He had met Harry, and their friendship grew into brotherhood, and that reminder kept him silent during his 'Punishments', something which disturbed the woman. He had grown more confident too, and informed her that if she continued on her path, he'd have his revenge once Hogwarts ended and he could actually cast magic; Which earned him two seconds under the Cruciatus.

Second year had been a nightmare, his brother hurt by everyone who seemed to hate him, and got even worse when they lashed out. He knew Harry could withstand the curses and glares from others, but when it came to his friends, the boy was ruthless. How he'd been sorted into Ravenclaw, Trip would never know. He had heard of the pain his attackers had gone through.

That was the same year he felt pure, unadulterated fear. Luna had been injured severely in a skirmish, and the ones who did it, had supposedly barely come out of the fight Harry instigated with their lives. While he was certainly selfless, the Ravenclaw's rage knew no bounds, and in the end, it might just kill him. The power and potential in Harry would be wasted by fools who thought they knew better and were better, thus signing their own suicide pact.

But, moving onto less depressing thoughts, he traveled to Elizabeth. His father and her parents had signed the contract at the first signs of a burgeoning relationship, in exchange for political acumen and a bit of gold. As he would inherit two titles, with the possibility of a third in Yaxley, he'd been worth more. Thankfully, His father had placed it in a vault only accessible to him, so his stepmother couldn't touch it even if she tried to force him.

It's only real stipulations were they marry on Liz's seventeenth, and they remain virgins. With it being magically enforced with blood, they had no chance of ever getting out, as usual, so they had decided, as soon as they heard it, to try and make it work. If it didn't, they could at least be friends. With the prospective future brightening, he grinned. So far, it was proving to be a fruitful day.

Their date had gone wonderfully, and for once in his life, everything was working out. He moved to go inside, but before he could, in classic movie fashion, an explosion rang out back at Hogsmeade. Groaning, as he knew Harry had _something_ to do with it, he left at a swift pace, looking behind him. Nobody else seemed to have heard it, so he sped up. While it was a ways away, none of the Thestrals looked in the mood to make another trip.

Reaching the gates after five minutes, he sprinted the rest of the way, nto pacing himself at all as he knew whatever it was likely threatened someone's life. He passed thick trees, an abandoned looking house, and into the village proper. Puffing, he made his way to where he'd heard it.

Where once stood a large clearing, was a crater. Trunks of trees were splintered everywhere, as he slipped past the crowd to look around. But dust was thick in the air, and he sneezed as he stared on. The hole seemed to dig into the ground, like a meteor's impact, as his eyes widened. This was not natural, not even an animal could have created it. It had to be man-made, and only three other people in the entirety of Britain could have done such a thing. One was dead, another was up at Hogwarts, which left only Harry.

Swiftly sliding down, he searched desperately for his friend, his brother. The boy he'd stood by in 2nd year, and who had begun worrying him more and more as he grew more isolated, ignoring others in favour of his 'projects.' Floating dirt around, it seemed pointless. Wherever the boy was, he'd be covered in the remnants of the explosion, likely knocked out, and a bit too deep for Trip to spot him.

Thankfully, Tom appeared, and didn't hesitate before jumping in and helping him. They searched for hours, and moments before the final carriage took off, they found him. His head was covered in dried blood, his wand in hand as his shirt was in tatters. A large amount of cuts lay across his body, and they lifted him up. This happened way too often, and they needed to figure out what caused it this time. First stop- Daphne Greengrass.

They managed to make it to the carriage, and sighed as it took off, taking the moment to rest and relax. Their brother had been injured, probably by his own doing, and they had no idea why. It was frightening. So they quickly collaborated on possibilities, but couldn't think of a single good reason. Eventually, they just waited for it to land.

Taking him to the Hospital wing was easy, finding Daphne was the hard part. She'd been slippery and nobody had spotted her, until eventually Trip broke down and grabbed the Marauders Map, spotting her in an abandoned classroom. Placing it back, promising never to take it without explicit permission again, the two hurried off to where they had seen her, catching the girl just as she was about to leave.

Shoving her inside, they noticed tear tracks where she'd been crying, and knew it was something to do with the two's practically nonexistent relationship. Anyone who knew them could see the two were into each other, but neither acknowledged it. Personally, Trip thought that was foolish, as it was just leading towards an unhappy life, But he had ignored it, until it nearly cost their brother his life.

'What is going on with you two? First, nothing's happening, and now I find you crying, right after discovering him seriously injured after a gigantic curse that destroyed an entire clearing!' Daphne choked back new sobs, as she spoke.

'I-I wanted us t-t-to b-be an a-actual c-c-coup-ple. B-but m-my stupid p-parents g-got in the w-way! They threatened him, and now, He won't even hold my hand!' She dissolved into fits of crying as her anger dissipated, and Trip patted her back awkwardly.

'Look, I get it, ok? You wanted to try and make it work, so that the contract didn't curse you in an unhappy life. But the best thing you can do right now, is work up your courage, and go to your parents. Yell at them, scream, make them feel bad. Because they deserve it.' He still felt a bit odd, but he thought it might help.

'I-I j-just d-don't know how to y-yell at them. They've a-always looked o-out for me, and I've been taught they always know what's right. I just can't do it.' She clenched her hands, squeezed her eyes as he thought of something.

'Why don't Me, Liz, Tom and Luna come with you? You know, moral support?' He said, a bit hesitant.

'You'd really do that for me?' The look in her eyes killed him, and he cursed the Elder Greengrasses.

'Of course, I promise. We'll do it tomorrow, in fact, and get Flitwick to help. Harry's his favorite, and if we tell him what we're doing, he'll surely approve. Now come on, it's time for bed.' He pulled her up, and dragged her along carefully, but before he began going up the staircases, she hesitated before going down.

Knowing where she wanted to go, they entered the Hospital wing, where in the darkness, Harry's bed was illuminated by moonlight. Walking over, they sat in chairs, where Hermione, Neville and the rest already were sleeping. They did this far too often. Lying back in his seat, pondering the day, he slowly drifted off to sleep.

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	26. Loss of Love

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

Tom was scared. Frightened, even, of those standing, hovering over him as he and his friends attempted to reprimand the couple. Their height, which suggested their children would not be vertically challenged, had them looking down upon everyone in the group, even Trip and Ronald, the tallest of those here. Their eyes like pools of water and ice, freezing and cruel.

Aurora and William Greengrass, who had been well known for their vicious fight against the light. That's not to say they had joined the Dark, but many believed that had their family obligations not required they stay away from Voldemort, their joining of his ranks would have been immediate. Far from terrible people, not blood-purists, rapists, murderers or the like, no they simply loved destruction and fear. Sadists if there ever were a pair, but refused to kill.

Torture, however, was not off the table. They had ever touched a hair on their daughters, but said females were awoken many a night by screams from Muggles. Thus, this led to the exclusion of Hermione and introduction of Draco into the visiting group, not wanting to take any chances, and only including the pure and half bloods. Just in case.

'Are you telling me, that we should just let Mr Potter attack our daughter, and force her to do things she is not ready to do!?' Aurora looked ready to explode, but Draco cut her off.

'Ma'am! **Lord** Potter, is the most responsible teenager I've ever met. He already avoided touching her before your little 'Discussion', and now he won't even hold her hand! Daphne wants to move things forward, but because of your threat, he's so scared he is indirectly hurting her!' Of course, William was deaf to everything but that Harry was hurting his daughter.

'He is hurting her! Come along, Honey, it seems we must deal with Mr Potter.' He moved to leave, but Daphne suddenly stepped up, and slapped the man. Hard.

'ARE YOU DEAF!? IT IS BECAUSE OF YOU! THE MAIN REASON HE WON'T GO ANYWHERE NEAR ME IS BECAUSE YOU THREATENED HIM WITH CASTRATION OR DEATH IF HE DID! SO YOU WILL GO, YOU WILL SEE _LORD _POTTER, BUT YOU WILL APOLOGIZE, TELL HIM YOU WON'T DO ANYTHING, AND THEN KEEP YOUR NOSES OUT OF MY BUSINESS FORM NOW ON! I ORDER YOU AS HEIRESS GREENGRASS!' She stopped, breathing deeply with a hard glare as WIlliam held his cheek, stunned.

Eventually, they got over themselves, and attempted to reason with her, but the girl pulled out her wand, along with Flitwick, as they guided her parents to the floo. Giving them the address, they left to the Hospital wing, with Trip lingering back a moment. The architecture in the manor was superb, he had to admit as much.

It was primarily decorated in green and dark wood, and while he didn't have access to any more than the sitting room, he suspected the rest matched. The floor was inlaid with planks, which had small silver specks occasionally flitting through, clearly animated. The furniture, from what he had felt, was a soft cotton that was deceptively old. The fireplace had Sapele over it, curling to form a shelf on which several pictures stood, one of each girl as a child, one of them as a family, and one of Daphne's Grandparents, each couple getting one. The fire was purple, and he couldn't tell whether it was magical or just extremely hot.

The paintings flitted from canvas to canvas, attempting to get a good look at the stranger, and he spotted some notable figures. Alexander Greengrass, one of the best Potioneers of the Nineteenth Century, Faora Greengrass, renowned duelist, and, oddly, someone he didn't recognize, yet still familiar. They weren't a Greengrass, Astoria had decided, when none got her references, to show her entire family tree. The entire presentation took several hours and he just about passed out by the end.

'Excuse me, who are you?' The figure looked at him oddly, before replying confidently.

'I am, of course, Charlus Potter. Renowned Duelist, Charms Master and Alchemist Extraordinaire. And you are?' He said, a tone of arrogance touching his voice.

'I am Trip Fawley, Heir to Houses Fawley and Shafiq. If I may, I believe I know your Grandson, Hadrian, why didn't you reveal yourselves to us earlier?' Charlus raised a painted eyebrow.

'You would show yourself to someone you just met, especially in such a vulnerable state? I am not a fool. But yes, my Grandson is Hadrian. How do you know him? He is just a child.' The man responded, and Trip thought for a moment agreeing.

'I suppose I wouldn't. But Hadrian is already 13, Milord, in Hogwarts with myself and our friends. How did you end up here?' At the man's gasp of shock, all the boy could do was stare questioningly.

'I was brought here by the Greengrass's, on the night my son was murdered. They claimed they would return me to the last of my family, but just hung me here like a trophy. I tell you, they are unbearable people. Well, since you're here, and know my Grandson, get me down and bring me to him. Chop Chop! I want to see him!' He clapped his hands, and Trip, with creased eyebrows and tightened lips, brought him down, touched the shrinking rune, and pocketed the canvas, hoping WIlliam and Aurora would not notice.

Stepping into the Floo, which had an extra large fireplace specifically for people, he called out Hogwarts Hospital Wing, and came out the other side after an unpleasant journey. Thankfully after practicing under his Father's watchful eye for several hours, he'd mastered the landing, and it didn't feel quite so terrible any more. Quickly jogging over to Harry's bed, which had the curtains pulled and Draconus, Vincent and Gregory standing guard, who had chosen to still protect Draconus, he stopped in front of them.

'Where are the rest?

'In class, I had potions and Severus gave me the day off, so I could help Harry.' Nodding, Trip waited as well, until finally the Elder Greengrasses, along with Daphne whose cheeks were tinged with pink and was huffing slightly, stepped outside the curtains.

William and Aurora quickly stepped away, as Daphne relayed the conversation to Draconus and Trip, while Crabbe and Goyle opened the curtains to Harry's thanks. While dumb as a doorknob, they were useful, and surprisingly resourceful. Crabbe loved Magical Creatures, and secretly was one of Hagrid's favourites, though nobody could beat Harry's literal animal magnetism, which had drawn Hagrid to him like a moth to flame. The Half-Giant's yells of amazement were audible, even from the Wing.

Harry was perfectly relaxed in his bed. Even despite the plaque Pomfrey had chosen to put up in her humour, yet also disappointment, couldn't bring him down. His book on different healing techniques given to him by the matron looked interesting, and he thought it might be a promising career. But before he could look into it more, or call Pomfrey to ask questions, the people he wanted to see the absolute least appeared.

'What do you want?' He asked gruffly, not in the mood to deal with them. Daphne appeared, and he kept his eyes straight on those he considered his enemies.

'To apologise. Daphne has made us see the error of our ways, and how our words might have been misinterpreted. We only meant to say that we would do such things if you tried to push her past what she wanted.' Daphne crossed her arms. They rolled their eyes. 'And we wouldn't injure you seriously, we have no doubt she would beat us to it, simply find some way in revenge.' While this was somewhat reasonable, Harry was also pissed. They needed to be forced into it, and didn't even have the audacity to pretend. There was a clear line between being protective of your daughter, and being violent at your future son-in-law.

'While I do appreciate the apology, I dislike that you needed to be forced into it simply because your daughter wanted to be more physical, and you didn't have the foresight to see how it affected her. Please leave, before I lose my temper. And if you need confirmation on how much that would hurt, just look at why i'm in here. A quick trip to Hogsmeade Clearing will tell you all you need to know.' Looking properly chastised, and also slightly curious, they left, and he could clearly make out their calls for the Three Broomsticks. Meanwhile, Daphne left, whom he chose to ignore.

It's not that he was especially angry at the girl, she didn't deserve that, but he was not in the mood for an argument, which anything they tried to talk about would dissolve into. At this point, she was clearly pushing him for some sort of physical relationship, which while not unsurprising considering she was likely in the last throes of puberty, and as an Heiress never touched herself in her life, he thought quite selfish of her. Going to her parents, while he was very grateful, was a clear move to eliminate any excuses he could come up with. Thankfully, Trip came in with a look of excitement plain on his face, pulling him from his thoughts.

'Harry, you won't believe what I got at Greengrass Manor! I would have wondered why Daphne didn't give it to you before, but then I realised that was the Adults sitting room, which she wouldn't have been allowed into until she was Seventeen, at which point they could claim they were keeping it safe for you, though it was clear it was just going to be leverage, but-' He said, pausing, as Harry looked on, puzzled.

'What the bloody hell are you on about?"

'Oh, right.' Then pulled out a portrait, enlarging it, to Harry's gasp. He knew that face, it was in the family grimoire and tree. It was his Grandfather.

'Ahh, and there he is! Hadrian Potter, My Grandson! Oh how I've been waiting to see you! My, you really have become quite the looker. Though Dorea would be truly smug about it, you've got so many of her features. Only the trademark Potter hair and chiseled jaw are mine. Speaking of which, where is she? I'm assuming still in the Potter vault?' He smirked, eerily similar to his own, as the painting puffed out his chest, deflated a bit and looked slightly glum all in one swift motion, as Harry just looked him over.

Oddly, he had Chestnut brown hair, even though people said James looked a lot like his father, and so Harry like him. Yet his cheekbones weren't quite as aristocratic, nor his eyes as sharp. But he was right- The messy hair, strong jaw and lean body type were just like his own, only Charlus had more muscle, likely from fighting in the Grindelwald war. Harry did note the man's eyes were a deep brown, much like Hermione's, which did match the description others gave of his father.

'Well, as soon as I get out of here, perhaps I can go get her?' The Man's eyes widened, and he caught a grey streak running slightly above his ears.

'No no no no no, no need. I'm sure she can wait a bit, and I do enjoy sitting, it's just about all I can do. Perhaps you could paint me some books?' His raised eyebrow and sudden mood shifts confused him, and questioned whether the man might be bipolar.

'Sure. Anyways, I could try. I'm getting better at drawing because of Ancient Runes, but I don't know how much that will transfer over to painting. Perhaps you should leave the frame until I finish. Maybe I could even make you a second canvas.' Charlus nodded, as he noticed the Ravenclaw crest on his chest.

'Ahh, very good! Ravenclaw! I was a Slytherin myself, and Dorea Gryffindor! Absolutely stunned everybody, a Black in Gryffindor! What a tragedy.' Now he was just confused.

'But aren't Potters traditionally Gryffindor?'

'Oh, we may have spawned the line boy, but we have been Slytherins and Ravenclaws far more, and Hufflepuffs just as much. The same applies to all the Old Houses, though Dorea was accepted after some time. Why, I laughed my arse off when we revealed we were Dating! Of course, leaving out the fact we were betrothed,' Now, Harry grew visibly red, as he remembered what had been signed several years past.

'Speaking of which, why did you put me into one, and with the Greengrasses?' Harry said, a tinge of ice entering his voice as Charlus guped.

'Well, you see, Kieran and Leto were good people, it was their son that was messed up. I assumed their child would die in the war, certainly reckless enough for it, and we wanted to protect our lines from forced marriage, or Honour killing. We thought you would be able to grow up close, but we would keep you separate often, as to allow romantic feelings to be born. Unfortunately, that didn't work out. But, you have been attempting something while you can, yes?' Harry nodded, and the man sighed, suddenly looking weary.

'Dorea tried to push me into it faster than I wanted, and it caused us strife later on. I do hope yours isn't like that. There is a reason your father took so long to date your mother. I assume others haven't given you the entire story?' He shook his head.

'Only that he was in love with her since first year, and that she only accepted Seventh, and they fell in love afterwards.' The man laughed, a sad, distraught one though.

'Sentimental drivel, and overly romanticized in favour of the stories at the time. Lightly sexist, considering the real story. Also, attempting to cover their own arses' He took a deep breath, and Harry leaned in, as Charlus continued, though Harry lightly noted that Erebus was now lying at his feet, looking up with sad eyes at the painting.

'While both in Gryffindor, they barely said a word until Fourth year. Then, sparks flew. But, as in all Potter men, we are not the easy ones. Things grew steadily, up until their sixth. James wrote to me, saying he had broken up with Lily. Being the man of action I was, I immediately called the Headmaster, and arranged a meeting with my son. When I arrived, he was crying.' He paused, taking a sip of water from a painted cup the boy hadn't seen before.

When he continued, there was a painful tone to his voice. 'They had gotten drunk, and your mother pushed him a bit too far. So he left their date early, after ensuring she made it to bed, and went to sleep. By the next morning, everyone hated him. As it turned out, your mother's friends Liliana McKinnon, and Mary MacDougal, had spread the rumour he was the one to push it too far. While Lily tried to apologise, he had none of it. His trust had been slighted, and as you know, Potter Trust is as vulnerable as-' He had to break in here.

'Their Ego.' While Charlus looked disappointed at the inappropriate slip-in, a smirk grew as the man continued.

'So he broke it off with her, and the rumours grew. Lily, Severus, and Alie tried to end them, as Sirius, Remus, and Peter tried to comfort him, but it never worked. He was practically begging to leave by then, but I didn't let him.' Harry attempted to interject, the man continued before he could. 'I ordered everyone in the Great Hall that Lunch to quiet, and told them the truth. They looked ashamed, but it never fixed James's attitude. He refused to forgive any, and only kept those he knew hadn't slighted him close. In the end, he forgave your mother, and by their Seventh Year they became a couple once more.'

'Why are Potter Men, apparently, so scared of intimacy?' It was the Golden question, the one that answered why he felt, somewhat irrationally, angry at Daphne.

'No one really knows, perhaps we are simply more sensitive, perhaps it was an old attempt to prevent us breeding that has been watered down, what I do know is that we can only do so on our own. From what I've overheard of your upbringing and their threats, I am amazed you even forgave the girl, despite it not being her fault. But it is good, you can move on from this. Learn from it, as you may just need more wives, if she's unwilling to produce the children necessary for more than one.' He winked, and Harry shivered at the idea.

'Do you really not know? I would have thought it might be in the grimoire.'

'It's difficult to say. My own theory is that once, as a result of intimacy with someone, the Potters lost our fortune. I had to regain it, you see, it was a measly few thousand galleons when I gained my Lordship, and I invested. As a result, an ancestor cursed his own line with a refusal for anything sexual until we are completely ready, which is pushed back significantly farther as an indirect result. It's very complicated, though. I do imagine it would explain the small, scribbled curse on the front page that I once tested.' He covered his mouth, but looked resigned. After all, Charlus had long since done his research. Of course he knew the truth. What it was, just didn't want to put that pressure on his grandson.

'Yes, I saw that. What did it do?'

'I let the man go, and when he returned home, his wife attempted to kiss but he pushed her back, confused and fearful. Eventually I found the counter-curse and fixed my mistake, but it is what I built my theory on. It could also simply be that they wrote down what they were hit with. Unable to counter it, as Blood Curse knowledge only became big a few hundred years ago, they hoped their descendants would find the fix. But as we quickly discovered, once Blood Curses go past the second generation, they will only disappear after One Hundred Generations. Speaking of which, this is the One Hundredth for the Greengrasses own.' He finally caught his breath, as Harry was pensive for a moment.

'But Blood Curses usually fluctuate in who they affect, at least in later stages. How many has it been since?'

'From my Research, you should be the last. It might have been an especially potent one that cost the caster his life. It won't prevent it's disappearance at One Hundred, but it will make sure to be active and powerful in every single one. And if it was only focused on the males, rather than both genders, it would even still be more effective. Really, the only thing we know is it there might be a Blood Curse. At least, we do now.' Harry agreed, and they moved off less depressing topics.

But in the back of his head he knew it was bullshite. While there were Blood Curses that could affect behaviour, they'd been lost in the Troll War, after the Black Family had gotten pissed at an attempt on their line. It was pretty much entirely a result of his childhood and her parents. Magic could solve a lot, but in the end the psychological damages left on his psyche would take sometime to dissipate, even if the immediate results were rid of. James was likely just his fathers son, was fed this story and took it to heart. At least he knew his parents truly did love each other.

At that point, he would just have to get over himself and his social awkwardness, but with a bit of therapy and assistance from Dumbledore, some sprinkle of Gryffindor courage, that could be dealt with easily. Magic was King for a reason.

Harry suddenly grabbed Daphne's arm from the cupboard he was in, and sat her down. She peered up at him with curiosity, and he sat down in front of her. While her slitty hands showed her nervousness, she also clearly expected this, as she was not surprised whatsoever by the fact he'd pulled her in here.

'Look, Daphne, What I'm about to say is going to be hard to hear, but I need you to listen, ok?' She nodded. 'Alright, I was beaten by my relatives' She frowned.

'Well, if you didn't want a physical relationship, you could have just said so, then make up some half-cocked story! My sister was beaten, dammit!' She made to get up, but Harry pulled her back down.

'I knew you'd say that, so here is my wand. Use legilimency, look into my memories. I genuinely want to make you happy, but with my upbringing, I don't want you to get your hopes up.' She frowned, but acquiesced, motioning for him to sit down

They dived into his mind, and she cane out crying, hugging him. He simply patted her back awkwardly, but eventually leaned into it and reveled in the warmth she produced. Eventually he pulled away, holding her at arms length and kissed her cheek.

Daphne smiled, he smirked, and she left as he put the portrait away and headed to Dumbledore's office. No time like the present. Especially when what you were trying to fix was keeping you from doing anything physical whatsoever with a beautiful girl. Hey, he is Thirteen now, and puberty's a bitch.

Dumlbedore's office was sparse, and as he walked in, he realised why. In the middle, stood a comfy looking chair, with one of those couches found in a Therapist's office, the Eccentric Old Man writing something down on a notepad. Perhaps he did know everything that happened in these hallowed halls.

'I assume you know why i'm here?' He laid down on the brown seat, getting comfortable.

'Indeed Mr Potter. Now, if you would open your mind, I can assist you in your acceptance and move on from your feelings. Magic is a truly wonderful thing.' He lowered his Occlumency Barriers and guided the Headmaster to the Dursley room, buried inside the Dungeons. Slowly in his mind, but merely a second in reality, they reviewed every single terrible memory one by one.

While painful for both, it truly, truly helped. Dumbledore was able to see the hardships he'd gone through, and appreciate the young man had come out alive and well, and Harry watched each one with a hard face. It hurt inside, but he learned that really, these were just downright horrible people, and someone like Daphne, or his friends, anybody else really, didn't deserve to get put in their category.

While everything felt jokingly short, and in the Muggle world nothing would have been done, for Harry it was like a veil lifted, a weight from his shoulders. Finally, he could move on from the pain and hatred those evil people had tried to instill in him. While some could never go away, perhaps this was his guide to moving on, to getting a new family. A real one. The first step, and when he was Fifteen, he'd be completely free.

Perhaps, he could live a bright future. One where he could hug his children and 'love' his wife. It was his heart's desire, after all.

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	27. World on Fire

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

Politics. What a mess. Even in the muggle world it was incredibly difficult to understand. Throw in magic, eccentric wizards and incompetent minsters, and you've got a true recipe for disaster.

Cornelius Fudge was never known for his backbone, even in his early childhood he'd been a coward, rather run than stand up for himself or his friends. This did, however, assist him greatly in his attempts to run the country, as his silver tongue could turn even the most stubborn witches to his side, more so than Lucius Malfoy. The issue mainly being that he never exercised it, and any competent fool could see his facts were, pardon the pun, fudged.

So, he negated this by attempting to hide anything that might bring his abilities into question, though this hardly ever worked and simply brought more questions down upon him. But, blind to this and drunken with power, he refused to budge on his more...fanciful declarations. Such as calling in an emergency Wizengamot meeting, locking the doors, calling for a kiss-on-sight order to an ancient house, and then announcing the return of the Triwizard Tournament.

Oh, it wasn't all him, but how was he to know he was being manipulated in doing his most feared enemy's demands? After all, if he was so incompetent, how could he be blamed for such things? Empty reasoning, but it would save his life later on. For now, we focus on the latest meeting of the Confederation of Wizards, where Minister Fudge has decided to reroute Dumbledore and make a demand.

'My Dearest apologies, Council, but our representation, Albus Dumbledore, has prevented me from meeting with this august body. It was through trickery I even managed to speak today.' There were a few yells for Dumbledore to explain, but in general the Council simply sat silently.

'The Triwizard Tournament was once a well-known competition between the three most prestigious schools, and I wish to reinstate this. It is not merely so I can show off Hogwarts' illustrious reputation.' He chuckled, but nobody responded. 'But also so I can raise International Cooperation. The Quidditch Cup Finals will be held in Britain this Summer, and I believe a friendly clash will bring this to levels not seen in years!' Now, there were mutterings. But France, home to Beauxbatons, the second most well known school, decided to speak.

'It was cancelled because of so many deaths. Many were won solely because all other Champions died, and the last one held killed all three! What safety precautions will you plan on exerting?' Fudge chuckled. He'd rehearsed this question a dozen times with Dolores.

'We will open it only to those who have completed their O.W.L.S., and with explicit permission from their Magical Guardian they are fit to compete. Whilst the Cup is binding, we can at least enforce restrictions, can we not?' Many in the crowd were beginning to nod along, and Dumbledore was growing furious. It was time to step in.

'My dear Council, remember that this is an incredibly dangerous event! The First Task alone has killed more students than I dare contemplate! Please, do not consider this course of action!' But Fudge was not to be swayed.

'Yes, it is dangerous, but those who died were only because younger champions were allowed! With older students competing this should not be a problem. Unless the Supreme Mugwump wishes to explain why Hogwarts standards have fallen so far as to prevent our students from succeeding?' The man in question remained silent.

'Hogwarts and Beaubatons have always competed, and it will be no different now, but Castelobruxo has fallen into disrepair. They say it will not be able to house a student in years. Who shall compete in its stead?' The Brazilian Representative was loud, and immediately the States tried to place Ilvermorny in the ring.

'Why not Durmstrang!? It is in Third place with the Brazilian school gone!' The Swedish representatives' accent was thick, but clear with the translation potions. While the other countries argued, in the end it was clear that Tradition would dictate who would go, and Durmstrang had always been right behind Castelobruxo, so they would be competing.

'Why not introduce a fourth school!?' The States were desperate to get a chance, and no longer be the laughing stock, placed in fourth. Many were truly considering this, and with a near unanimous vote, it became the first Triwizard Cup in over a Century, and the Colonies seemed supremely disappointed.

Fudge sat down at the Visitors chair, satisfied as Dumbledore shot him a dark look. This would not go over well, and the Wizengamot would meet that same day. Cornelius seemed unbothered, as he paid attention to what was going on.

'What shall we do about the Moldu war?' It was the French representative again. 'This is beginning to affect us, our Minister is beginning to ask questions we can't answer. The sudden influx of Moldu's is posing a risk to the Statute, and we can't handle much more stress!'

'I agree! The Gomp are becoming far too dangerous, our best bet would be to eliminate them!' The Norwegian Minister spoke, and Dumbledore began to nod his head. After all, while everyone deserves a second chance, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few…

'And how would we go about accomplishing this! The No-Maj's in America and Russia are dead, but that leaves the rest of the world! Britain is outnumbered 100-1! Even with their well-known powerful wizards, they couldn't destroy them!'

'Are you a Wizard or not!? They can't fight us, Protegos exist for a reason! If we get every country to raise their wards to maximum security, cut off all communication, they'll fight each other to extinction. The only thing preventing them from destroying themselves is us!' Dumbledore now had to speak.

'They are capable of far more cooperation than you believe. If we are to destroy them, it must be from the inside out. I can draw up a few plans, and by the meeting next year, they will be ready. It will take some time, but if we destroy their leaders, they will be useless. At which point, we can take the young. They can be raised in the Wizarding World, taught they are squibs. They have already bred themselves to extinction, the entire next generation will be Muggle-Borns, and the new blood will help us survive.'

Everyone was stunned. The well-known, or at least well-thought-known Muggle Lover Albus Dumbledore was speaking in favour of their eradication, taking of their children and planning to be involved directly. With that, and already high support, it passed unanimously. Dumbledore would draw up ideas to take out their governments, and next year they would begin to be executed. By 1997, they would be activated, and the entire Planet would become Magical, thus allowing for a brighter future.

—-

The Wizengamot was an old room. It was a large, circular stone area with a high ceiling, several chandeliers that hung low, and a few seated sections. Magically activated, they divided into several sections, switching based upon those seated' beliefs. There were three large sections, the Dark, the Light, and the Grey. Several smaller ones made up the rest of that side, but they were insignificant unless one could get all to agree, which had not happened in several hundred years.

The Ministry's section was comparably smaller, with one for the Minister himself, one for his Undersecretary, the Order of Merlin First Class holders, Department Heads and 3 elected officials. The total number of seats amounted to 150, Forty each in Light and Dark, Twenty Five in the Grey and Ministry, and Twenty divided among the rest. It once held up to Three hundred, but the fall of the Old Houses had seen a significant decrease. The amount of votes were 257, as each Most Ancient and Noble House carried 3, Any other family held 2, and those of the Ministry section had 1 each.

Thus, in typical votes, the Grey were the deciding section. They had the Slughorn, Jackson, and Tyler families on their side, with 10 in the Light, and 11 in the Dark. Hogwarts, Emrys and Pendragon, being extinct. They clashed on almost every bill ever passed since their forming, but for once they did not. This left Albus Dumbledore incredibly frustrated. The one time it would be incredibly convenient, they all got along.

'Silence! This meeting is about a Trial for Lord Sirius Orion Black. I understand you all seem to agree that he is convicted, and must be killed immediately, yet I shall present new evidence.' Folders were handed out, and as each member opened theirs, it was revealed to be empty.

'Chief Warlock! What is this? It's empty.' Lord Crouch said, head the the Elder and Noble House of Crouch.

'Exactly. Now, before you make any final decisions, let me remind you of his status. He is Lord Black, whose vote was passed to me by proxy, along with Poterimus. The last of the House of Black, and though he passed the title and ownership of House Black to Lord Poterimus, he was of that status at the time of imprisonment. If a Lord of a Most Ancient and Noble house is allowed to be thrown in prison with no trial, why does that not apply to you? I urge you to consider the injustice this is, and will spawn if you choose to ignore it.' He looked at each over his half-moon spectacles, and a sudden silence fell.

When the vote was called, it passed near unanimously, the only outliers being a few stubborn lords, and the majority of the Ministry Section. Dumbledore smiled. Once Sirius was found, he would be given an immediate trial, with the Kiss-On-Sight order removed. He felt giddy inside, and moved on. While the Triwizard Tournament was important, the next business was of far more significance, and the doors were locked as the Press and audience were ushered out for privacy.

'We all know of the events of the Fall of the Old Houses.' There was a shudder. "And we must refill those seats. I move to allow One Hundred and Fifty New-Bloods and Muggle-Borns with Established Houses be allowed to fill in that niche.' Surprisingly, it was Lucius Malfoy who had announced this, and Dumbledore narrowed his eyes, but agreed. 'I have gathered a list of suitable candidates, and move to vo-'

'Lord Malfoy! You cannot attempt to control the Wizengamot by doing this, it is against the Old Law. Each Faction, Light, Dark, and Grey will be allowed to select fifty, The other minor sections will join with those they match closest to. If the vote passes for an introduction of new power, this will be the case, and you cannot circumvent it. Vote shall occur now.' After some time, it was tallied. 157 For, 92 Against, and 8 abstaining.

'The motion passes! Gather your choices by the next meeting.' His gavel slammed. 'On to new business. The Triwizard Tournament shall be held at Hogwarts this year, and it shall include Beauxbatons as well as Durmstrang. Should everybody agree, it will be held here. Vote now!' The vote was unanimous in favour, and the Old Man sighed. This did not bode well, especially with the choosing traditionally occurring on All Hallows Eve.

'Very well. On to final business. As Supreme Mugwump of the ICW and Britain's Representor, it is my duty to inform you the ICW has agreed on the decision to eradicate Muggles, the taking in of their children and raising them as Squibs. I have been chosen to decide our strategies, and will need several assistants on a War-Council. I have chosen to allow the Wizengamot to choose 3 officials to assist. Is this motion seconded?' Augusta Longbottom attempted to stand, but Theodore Nott Snr was first.

'I second!'

'Then allow us a recess to decide.' He stood, along with the entirety of the Light Faction, moving into a nearby antechamber as the rest did the same with their own groups. It was this, that would decide how painful it would be for the Muggles.

With the decision made, it was lunchtime. Marking the halfway point, and the end of all major business, the passing of bills would now come along. Dumbledore had heard of a particularly unpleasant bill that would be proposed by Umbridge, and he gathered all his allies. Most were used to going a day without eating, and those who could not, brung sandwiches or some other fast food for quick consumption.

'Alright, Dolores Umbridge will be proposing her bill today, and we must strike it down. Her prejudices are far too great to be allowed to fester resentment in the populace. No matter how incredible it may look, remember that she has likely hidden dozens of persecuting laws in there. Do not fall for the disgusting Toad's tongue.' His curses were not held back, he truly hated the woman.

Eventually, they entered the Chamber once more, filled with Press and an Audience once more. While answers were attempted to be wrung out, none were given. It could not be leaked to the Muggle Minister, or there would be a whole other danger. They'd kill the Muggles, but suffer far too many losses in the process.

'And now, we return to the 1986th meeting of the Wizengamot. Do we have any proposed bills?' He looked around, and only the Undersecretary raised her hand. Without even being called upon, demonstrating her arrogance and distaste for the Rules, Umbridge stepped down and stood in front of the Council.

'Dear August Body, I do believe we can all agree that Half-Breeds are a danger to our society. Werewolves, Veela, Mermish, Centaurs, none of them can continue to roam free. We must propose restrictions to prevent an uprising, so I propose this new bill. It is now in front of you.' The entire thing was well-written, the only issues being the glaring prejudice.

'This shall prevent them from getting jobs without explicit Ministry Permission, and require registration. Thus we will have a much tighter hold on them, and prevent any dangers from arising.' She was appealing to the Dark. The issue with that, is many knew Werewolves, and while it was appealing, it was also far too dangerous. Her Power-Hungry nature would only be fed by this, and it needed to be castrated before it could grow.

'I move to a vote' It was Malfoy.

'Seconded.' Greengrass, unfortunately.

The votes were tallied, and Dumbledore smiled. While most major decisions required a two-thirds majority, typically those of a minor importance, like bills, needed one vote would allow it to pass, which was what Dolores had been counting on. Unfortunately, with his own added, they would win by several. Her glee was uncontainable, and he would take great pleasure in tearing it to shreds.

'The motion does NOT pass, and you may be seated, Madam Umbridge.' She scowled, but complied.

Thus, the day proceeded much the same, and nothing of true note occurred.

—-

The grotesque infant scowled. While his plans were working, they didn't seem to be going exactly how he wanted. The tournament would happen, but extra precautions would be placed. Lucius would be tortured. He needed a proper servant to ensure the boy would be entered. Of course, that is when one of his most loyal appeared.

'Barty. You chose to come back. Good, I have a need for you.' It was high pitched and cold.

'Yes, Master, what do you need of me?'

'How did you come back? I heard you died in Azkaban.' The voice said, it's form causing the fat man in the corner to shudder.

'My father replaced me with my mother. He placed me under the Imperius, and I was stuck for Twelve Years. The moment I caught a hint of your survival, I could break free. I return to you, one of your most Loyal.' The baby-blob nodded, and smiled.

'Good. The Triwizard Tournament is being held, and I have need of your services.'

'Anything, Master.'

'You must capture Alastor Moody. I will have polyjuice retrieved, and you will take his place as Defense Professor in the upcoming year.' Barty looked confused.

'But sir, the Werewolf is the professor, are you certain he will be removed, and Moody will be chosen as his replacement?' The Figure tightened his grip on his wand. He did not like being questioned.

'Yes. Now go! Do not waste time with pointless questions!' While Barty was one of his favourites, his patience was already thinned.

The man disappeared, and thus allowed the disgusting baby to go over his plans once more. Azkaban would need to be destroyed, the message would be powerful, and a wonderful way to begin his campaign. It would need time and followers to arrange, but with the Trial of Sirius Black coming, he could truly claim it was his. Perhaps he could start with retrieving some of his Most Loyal quietly first. Thus, his name would be even more feared, by destroying the most horrible prison in Wizard History.

First, he would call Severus. While the man's loyalties were questionable his abilities as a Potions Master were not, and would be of great use to his campaign. Perhaps he'd know more of the ritual he planned, where his body would be fully restored. While there was no connection with Potter, as he'd hoped to leave, the boy's blood should be enough. Hopefully it would leave the boy weak as well. If the raw power present in his childhood was real, then he did not want to face a trained one.

The Old Muggle Caretaker for the Manor had fallen ill, by no mere coincidence. Wormtail had finally proven of some use, and thus allowed the children to roam his home, which meant Nagini got fed, and thus provided more venom for his concoction. With it, his rebirth should prove him more powerful than before, when mixed with the cauldron water. On par with the boy, he hoped.

While his research had proven fruitful, it would take time to put into action, but he was patient. At least, in regards to events that would provide him Dark Emperor of the World. As he fantasized, he also analyzed his room. With little to do but plan and read, his attention had begun to wander these days.

It had peeling green paint, with moldy floorboards of darkened wood, too far rotted to guess what type. The ceiling was in a slightly better shape, with less weight placed upon it. While the entire Manor had once been immaculate, it had fallen into disrepair as the caretaker got older, and his first plan had been to rebuild it. Unfortunately, with most of his magical power drained in keeping his homunculus form, it was slow. Wormtail hardly had the ability. Perhaps he shouldn't have let Barty go so quickly…

The furniture was moth-eaten, with his being a soft emerald cotton, mahogany legs. The chair had been Wormtail's best contribution thus far, even if it was ripped and torn in places. Oh, how the Homunculus wished to kill him, but the coward was still useful. Though The constant apparition to and fro Hogwarts had clearly taken a toll, with even less hair, slightly skinnier and sunken eyes. When he had first arrived, save for a small bit of balding, the man had appeared plump and healthy. Now… It was an unfortunate sacrifice.

Quirinus had been a sad loss. Such a useful servant, and taken in such a gruesome way, the baby-blob had no idea the boy had so much spunk. Perhaps it would be easier to turn him to the Dark Side. If he was to die, let it be to a worthy opponent, who would carry on his ideals. That was what he wanted anyway, to be immortalized? Not be forgotten? Perhaps…

Dumbleore was still being a thorn in his side. Lucius had guaranteed that horrid womans bill would pass. He'd been tortured several times for it. While being rewarded for seeking out his master, in that he was not punished for failing to be loyal to the cause, his failings had become far too numerous lately, and the man needed motivation. The death of his son should be enough.

The Old Man would die, that was for sure. He could not live, not when he could keep the boy in the light, and prevent his influences. Something showy, something dramatic. Perhaps the turning of his most loyal, Severus, would shake the wizards and witches in his blasted Order, get them to see the truth. Perhaps Black, after being accused, and sentenced to Azkaban for so long, could be turned. Yes… and He'd build a Kingdom. The Wizards were already planning to expand the Earth once the muggles died, and he could claim a continent as his own. His own Dark Land.

Would it work? Yes… It had to. For now he could dream of his Land. It would be Lava, and of dark stone. He'd build a Castle, and a Temple, it would tower over the others. He would create new creatures, new Dragons, Basilisks, Naga, all the reptiles! He would take the boy on as an apprentice, give him a land to conquer. And when he succeeded, taught the boy everything he knew, then, he would be forever entrenched in the boy, who would live immortal with the Hallows, as Lord Peverell. Yes, he could infect the Heir of the Darkest Wizard of all time, the one he looked up to like a Father.

Sheev would be proud, and the Potter Boy would join him at the promise of a family. Everything was looking brighter. Pulling his attention to the forefront, he focused on Pettigrew. His servant may be incompetent, but he certainly got the job done. His concoction would give him the strength to rebuild the manor, but not much else. Yet, he was a Dark Lord, Heir Slytherin! He did not belong in a decrepit old manor.

'M-my L-lord, I must be going. The Weasley boy i-is already g-growing worried, a-and w-we must not m-make t-trouble.' His trembling betrayed his cowardice, and the Homunculus scowled.

'Go then, Wormtail! But return to me after Black is freed. The man will hunt you down, and despite your weakness, I do have need of your physical abilities.' His frown grew, as he drank the concoction, feeling power surge as he cast his most powerful reparo, just as Pettigrew left.

Everything righted itself. The chair grew soft and comfortable, the woods hard and strong. The painting rolled back up and cleaned itself, as he felt the entire Manor grow stronger in magic, it's ward line channeling the excess and feeding the repair. He smiled. Magic was incredible. Calling for his trusted familiar, Nagini appeared, supremely disappointed.

_~Nagini, what troubles you so much?~_

_~I wished to eat the children master, but the fat one got away, scared them.~_ He rubbed the snake's head, soothing her as his eyes gleamed.

_~Do not worry, my pet. If all goes according to plan, your feasts will only grow. By Years end, I will have entire platters of children for you to consume. Does that soothe your ache?~ _Nagini smiled, for a snake, and nodded, allowing the Homunculus to take her venom with a phial, as Wormtail would mess it up, and thus the horror-baby used more magic for dexterity, allowing him to milk the creatures fangs.

While not as toxic as a Basilisk, her poison had killed dozens of men and women, with an antidote needed in one half-hour or the subject would die. He always laughed when the Muggles attempted to heal their children, but could not find the offending reptile to heal it, and thus held a funeral. He attended as a baby each time with Wormtail, smirking and cackling evilly at their sorrowful faces.

Finally, he lay himself to rest. His time would come, but his sleep was necessary. The Potter boy would be turned, and he would be immortalized in his name. He would build a Castle and Temple, priests and scholars would sign his name. Yes, his time was coming. Even if his mind was drifting in this terrible body, his power was unmatched.

Thus, he would be reborn.

**Read & Review Plz**


	28. Rememberance

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

_The Trial of Sirius Black_

_By Bart Newman  
_

_It seems there has been a grave injustice. Lord Sirius Black(Lordship Pending) has been denied a trial._

_That is right, Ladies and Gentlemen. Sirius Black, long thought betrayer of James and Lily Potter, War Heroes, is believed innocent. It comes as a shock to all, especially as the man is from the Ancient and Noble House of Black, long thought to be untouchable from his predecessor, Arcturus Black._

_It seems, according to our sources, that Lord Black was never given a trial, due to the many errors and confusion occurring at the end of the war. Lord Crouch admitted that he had thought Lord Black had confessed, and thus need not waste time._

_Once Black is found, he shall be taken into custody and to be given an immediate trial, with the Kiss-On-Sight order removed. We can only imagine how terrible this must be for the young Harry Potter, to whom Black is the Godson of. As Mr Potter was in school and Chief Warlock Dumbledore denied the ability to interrupt him, we can only speculate._

_None were available for statement._

_Turn to Page 2 for The Life of Sirius Black_

_Turn to Page 4 for the Tale of James and Lily Potter_

_Turn to Page 6 for All Information currently known about Harry Potter_

Harry flipped over to the relevant pages, and found them quite sparse. Even his own was lacking in succinct information, instead describing how he was Muggle-Raised and that the many stories believed true were lies. While Dumbledore had attempted to quell the various rumours, he was no omnipotent, and thus could not stop everything. He didn't blame the old man, but it was annoying.

He put down the paper and went to his food, he'd need it today. Sirius was supposed to appear for his trial, and he was beyond nervous, as this could very well prove the moment he left the Dursleys forever, and moved in with a new father figure. For now, he fed Erebus some bacon, Hedwig chose his toast, and Nyx was in his lap, purring.

While he'd barely started on the journals of the founders, as he'd gotten quite distracted, he knew he had to. The issue was, on one of his visits to find some crystals, he'd visited the secret room and found a special Transfiguration textbook created by Gryffindor himself. Whereas Animagus was a rare skill that typically only the most advanced Transfiguration masters accomplished, during his time the act had been more of a parlor trick, big and fascinating, but easily accomplished with the right information. Each of the founders had transformed into the animals on their crests, which explained why Ravenclaw chose an Eagle, and Gryffindor chose a Lion.

His method was his natural form, the creature his most significant line connected to, the birds, but he didn't have the one that best represented his personality. He did note that his best-bonded line was Ravenclaw, though he suspected it would change, as Natural Animagus were prone to, when he claimed all his Lordships and found the one he preferred. McGonagall had not had a chance, as she only had one. He pondered silently if she fully realised what her cat form actually meant.

Finally he got up, heading to Flitwick's office. There, he'd use the floo to the ministry with Severus, Filius, and Minerva joining him. The afternoon teas with the Transfiguration Mistress had proven especially fruitful and enlightening, he had learned much of his parents. Thankfully, after only one request, she had decided to show them in a light that was a bit more objective.

His father was something of a bully. Though McGonagal herself admitted that he was not always in the wrong, and their typical targets were those who attacked the younger Gryffindors. Namely, older Slytherins. It was through this he learned of the rivalry between Severus and his father, though clearly the man had let go. While she claimed he simply didn't blame his father, his Uncle came across as someone who would hold a grudge forever. He was thankful the man did not, though, as it gave him more family.

His Uncle had also been somewhat unpleasant, even if he didn't always mean to be. He had joined with the wrong people, as did his father, which exacerbated his more cruel tendencies. Thankfully, those they chose to be friends with, or at least those his father was friends with, grew up along with them, though she claimed Sirius Black was and always will be a child, yet had still expressed some fondness for the man, hoping he would be found innocent.

Lily Evans had been the exact opposite, meeting and hanging out with the right people, which made her far more kind. When questioned, McGonagall refused to budge that his parents had been practically rivals up to sixth year, and began dating in their seventh. While it was aggravating, he also understood. After all, who wants to hear their father was 'Weak'? Though, Harry also knew the man had just done what he could, under the stories he was told. It was a bit disappointing the seemingly intelligent man had believed the Blood Curse was real.

Suddenly, the floo chimed and he entered the fireplace, calling out 'The Ministry of Magic' as clearly as he could. Grabbing the edges of brick, he just about prevented a rough tumble into Trip and Tom. Knowing his experiences, the two had waited for him, and he was thankful, though not a little annoyed at the fact he always seemed to do that, and it had not gone unnoticed. Now though, was not the time to mess up.

Clutching the piece of paper in his pocket, the Ravenclaw steadied his racing heart and upset stomach, carefully following them as he glanced around the ministry. The ebony brick was beautiful, almost like marble, with silver inlays he suspected were decoration. The black floor led out into a wide room, as he'd chosen to miss the view of the gallery onto the statue. Now was not the time for idle fascinations.

Sitting on the audience's bench, which was a strong, blue-painted Oak, he looked out on the seats in front of him. He'd not yet visited the Lord's Hall, where the Wizengamot sat, and matched the Muggles House of Lords quite well, but he expected it would be soon. His Fifteenth year was nearly upon him, and that was when he was expected to officially take up his seat. Technically he could now, but it was probably a bad idea. The stuffy old men probably wouldn't be able to take him seriously.

The Trial was a full one for such a high-profile case, and Erebus, who'd come in with Tom, was barking loudly and happily near the floor, though it puzzled him why. Each seat was carefully crafted dark marble, which almost, _almost, _matched the walls. Each had an emblem carved onto the backs, the Coat of Arms of each house. He smirked as others were mystified by the appearance of Poterimus, Black, and Hogwarts. After all, it was common knowledge Black had been disowned. That didn't mean he couldn't name an heir to the family, though.

Eventually, the seats were taken and the Trial was called to order. He only half-payed attention, seeing as it would only really get interesting once Black appeared. Speaking of which, shouldn't he be manacled to the center seat by now? Something was off… Especially when they called for him to appear, and what happened truly shocked him.

Erebus, HIS Erebus, walked to the center and transformed into a very rough-looking man, with slightly sharp canines, and fluffy hair. His robes were torn in several places, and dirt caked his entire body as his shoeless feet left trails of mud not unlike that of his dog form. His pet had turned into a human! What the Hell was the world coming to nowadays?

Now he sat up to listen, as his friends tapped his arm on either side. Draconus was here, sitting at the far side by his father. It was quite often a Lord took his or her heir to a meeting so as to learn the trade they would eventually take up, or so he had read. While Draconus had groaned and moaned about it, Harry secretly knew the boy was excited about the experience. There was a gleam in his eye that just wouldn't go away, and made him want to strangle his friend.

'Lord Sirius Black, We shall-' Dumbldore was interrupted. As Chief Warlock, the man presided over anything that needed the Wizengamot. Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Law Enforcement, ran the smaller trials.

'Actually, I'm not a Lord. I was disowned by my family. As such, the proper missive is Sir, seeing as despite the disowning, I am technically of the House of Black, which as an Ancient and Noble House, makes me a Knight.' There were murmurs and mutterings, as Harry cringed internally. There were few alive with Black Blood, and even fewer who could claim a connection to the title. As a Patriarchal family, it went to a male. Sirius, despite being of the main line, was ineligible now, and his brother was dead. As such, it went to the oldest branch of the family, which happened to be Arcturus's sister, Dorea, since all the others had been wiped out in the Troll War. If it got out, despite the Poterimus and Black's well-kept secrets, someone would eventually figure out it was him. This was bad.

Though he was right about the 'Sir' part. Sirius had Black blood, which due to the Blood Pact, made in the 200's, led him to receive the benefits of it, to ensure the family didn't die out, even if none of it's members could ever actually take Headship for another 2000 years. The title carried with it a Counthood, and as applied to all the 30 families, as decreed by King Arthur the Sixth, meant any members would automatically receive knighthood, though that meant should England ever get into a war, they had to participate. Soon after the man had died, they'd officially split off from Muggle Britain and became their own country, his children leading the divide. That meant the current Queen and Heirs of the Royal family held Pendragon blood, though it solely meant they would be a Duke, the same as Delirius Dashwood, should one be born magical.

There used to be 30 Kingdoms all across the continent, which are each of the Ancient Pureblood families, coincidentally. Gryffindor had Wales, Slytherin, England, Ravenclaw, Finland, and Hufflepuff, Poland. Each Ruler was decided by his/her magic, as originally there had been only 30 Wizards and Witches in all of Europe, sometime after the Dark War. Longbottom ruled over Scotland, Lestrange presided over France, while Poterimus got Ireland. Malfoy had been an offshoot of Lestrange, and The Dashwood family technically had Poterimus blood in them.

The Shadeslayer family had been the High King/Queens, since they had given away Norway to the Greengrasses, who had come from the second son of Lord Smedry, and he had wished to make a name for himself. Since they had always been the most unselfish family, the others had allowed them to become so, thus giving them power beyond imagination. That one had eventually bred the Peverell and Emrys lines, Emrys continuing their rule while Peverell chose to become the most famous family of Scholars ever. Peverells had become an Archduke family instead, because of that. There were quite a few families who now held titles, Longbourne, DeCourcey, East, North, even Rushworth. Though the ratio of Ancient Families to subjects was now a gap so wide you couldn't jump it with a motorbike at top speed.

History had begun fascinating him more and more nowadays, and he often went over it in his mind when he was especially bored, but it was not something he was seeking to pursue as a career. He suspected when he eventually took on the Peverell title and found their home, there would be enough research you couldn't learn it all in a Century, if Voldemort hadn't already burned it all down. He turned to the trial, which was now reaching it's apex.

'Sir Sirius Black, were you ever a Death Eater?' It seemed they had administered Veritaserum while he was distracted, despite the law saying it was prohibited on a Pureblood. The man must have requested it.

'No.' His monotonous tone was slightly strange.

'Did you help the Dark Lord Voldemort kill Lily and James Potter or Poterimus?' You needed to be exact with the questioning, as otherwise they could be avoided. It's one reason why questioning a Pureblood under veritaserum nowadays was nearly pointless; you didn't have the time to come up with the right line of questions or their exact form, allowing the subject to avoid the truth. Most of them had been trained in the art of manipulation since they were in nappies. Since Sirius was a willing participant, and Duchess Bones had been especially perceptive, none questioned it.

Oh yes, all the Old Kings and Queens of the past had become Dukes, Marquess, or Earls, in that order. It depended on the people's opinions. All the families had fled to Britain, which for the Magical side included all of Ireland, when they'd been overthrown. While not officially, many chose to abdicate and leave, with a diminishing power. Even though he is technically the King of Ireland, he ignored the title.

'No.'

"Did you kill Peter Pettigrew and the surrounding area, including the Muggles?'

'No.' At this point, the trial was over, there was no more evidence truly against him. Someone might try some trumped up charge he escaped from Azkaban, but as only Amelia, as Head of the DMLE, could actually charge someone with a crime, it would be rendered pointless as he was never actually tried, and he couldn't be held accountable for that. There had been no official verdict on Sirius's punishment, as such he got away scot-free on a technicality.

'Vote now for whether he is guilty.' Everyone began writing down their votes, which had appeared and thus disappeared, in a flash of blue light. Dramatization, it was simply house-elves.

'Sirius Black is found Not Guilty by favour of 140, and as such will be released from charges and released into the custody of Lord Black.' It was an attempt to discover his identity, since as an adult man who was disowned, Lord Black no longer represented him in any capacity. Unlike the main members, Sirisu could actually have his Knighthood taken away, though only by The Sovereign of England. Again, technically him.

When nobody appeared, his cousin, Andromeda, moved down to take him. As none could argue, and all knew it was a Patriarchal house, the crowd dispersed, the Wizengamot moving to the main chambers to continue the meeting, Judicial areas done with. He moved to leave, taking his friends with him, as Sirius caught up with them. He smirked at the man, who gave a wide grin back.

'Hello, Harry. I… hm… I know you must get this a lot, but you look a lot like your father. Except you have your mothers eyes.' Few had ever actually said it, and as he looked at the pictures of his parents, he found himself disagreeing more and more. His features mirrored those of his Grandmother more than his father, really, though he did admit he had his mother's eyes. But he let it slide, the man was likely blinded by his newfound Freedom to pay too much attention.

'So I've been told. Why don't we go to a portkey, they'll land us right in front of Fortescue's, and I figure you need to sit down and eat some ice cream as quickly as possible. It was really a cover up; He despised the Floo, and Portkeys, while unpleasant, would at least have soft bodies to land on, instead of a wood floor to smash your face into.

They moved over to the section where they were under heavy wards, as Tom, Harry, and Trip took one, whereas Sirius, Andromeda, and Neville took another. The boy had been dragged by his Grandmother, and came over to walk with them at the first available opportunity. He'd barely given him a passing glance during that time.

Grabbing the coin of wood, which had already been pre-set with their destination, he waited a minute before a tug in his stomach was felt and he began spinning in circles. It almost made him puke as they were swirling in the air. Suddenly, everything felt off as the ride took far longer than it should have. Dread creeped down his back, cold fingers trailing down his spine as he shivered.

They landed on a wooden floor, and were quickly incarcerated, the others stunned as it all seemed to happen in a moment. Where were they?

The answer became clear as robed figures began coming in, and he suspected at least three were behind him, as a dark shadow appeared. He began grunting, muffled through the rope which held his mouth as he began to fear for his and his friends lives. It was all futile, of course, seeing as his wand was in it's holster and he couldn't flick his wrist to allow the magic to release it, unleashing his power.

Slowly the figure appeared, carrying a small bundle in his arms Harry couldn't make out, but was startled when a voice began to speak. It was as if coming from all of them and none of them at the same time, high and cold, cruelty evident.

'Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. Brought here solely by a simple compulsion charm.' The Ravenclaw cocked his head. His occlumency charms hadn't picked up on that, so it seemed the timing was a mere coincidence. Annoying.

'I know you want to become stronger. To protect your family. I can help you do that. Release him!' Suddenly, the ropes fell away as he tumbled to the floor, wrist moving almost unnoticeably as he grasped the paper in his pocket for hope.

'Ah yes. It seems you will not be tempted by mere power, but what if I told you I had a way to void the contract, protect your fortunes and keep her protections on.' Harry's eyes widened. How did he…?

It didn't matter. The only reason he even kept his magic, after all he'd lived eleven years practically without it, was so Daphne would be protected. She was a young. beautiful, vulnerable Noble Heiress, a prime target for those seeking to trap her in a loveless marriage, to gain status. As a magical girl, her magic naturally protected her virginity until she chose, so that was of no concern.

'Tell me.' He begged. A family made with those he loved was all he desired, and he didn't know whether he could ever truly love her. As a friend, surely, but it would likely never be more.

'Give me your word you will listen. That you will come when I call, and learn from myself.' It was almost certainly a trap, but if this managed to get Daphne into a marriage with one she loved, the benefits severely outweigh the consequences.

'Swear to me a Magical Oath.' Unbreakable, and would cost the person giving it their life if it was falsified, they were rarely used nowadays, and as such few knew of them.

'I swear to you I can break your contract with Daphne Greengrass whilst also keeping the protection to your fortunes, and preventing her from being trapped in any marriage contract she did not consent to explicitly knowing the nature of the contract..' of course, that last part technically always applied, but he couldn't afford to take risks. Others could disguise it as something else. But this way, the man could somehow use magic to prevent such events from occurring.

'Then I shall do as you request. I will not swear an oath though, seeing as how that would be far too risky on both sides.' The figure seemed to agree, as they remained silent. Suddenly, a wave of magic passed over him, and he felt his responsibility to the contract break. He pulled the parchment out, and the letters changed, to instead display that it was merely a way to prevent their fortunes from being robbed, and the only extra clauses being that each could choose whom they married, so long as they are aware of the nature of the events occurring.

He smirked. It was perfect. While he did not speak perfect legalese, it was enough to fully comprehend everything. The figure had done as he'd promised. So Harry would do his. Taking the rope offered, he grabbed his friends.

'They will awaken with no memory in the exact spot you were meant to. Keep the rope, it will take you to me whenever I call. Do not worry, it shall not be during classes, but you will most certainly appear when I call, I do not want my fresh new apprentice to die.' The cold smile sent shivers down his back, even if he couldn't see it, he could _feel_ it. They left the room, and appeared at Fortescues. What a day.

The meeting with Sirius and Andromeda had gone well, and he would be staying at Black Manor, somewhere off in Spain, where they had once ruled at the end of the summer. He was looking forward to it, and knew the portkey he kept at his side would take him to and from. So far, he'd yet to be called, but he had a feeling when he was, it would not be fun. The figure had not struck him as someone to be crossed, and a slave driver too. He sat at his desk, carefully opening a page from Slytherin, on Parselmagic.

_Truly, one of the World's greatest achievements. Parselmagic is a gift truly from Merlin, whether Legend is truth or false. It is unique in that it is one of the few branches of speaking magic given by the man that allows us to use magic in tandem with it. That fact has saved me in many a duel. Helga's own Badgerspeak has proven fruitful as well, though coincidentally it leaned more towards Yellow Magic, whereas mine is drawn towards that of the Purple._

_It's trickiness lies not in speaking the language, for all one must do is envision a snake to achieve such a thing, but putting power in the words. Each one must be fraught with so much willpower and meaning, they cannot be denied, and magic itself will bend to your will to make it so. It is not so much a form of magic itself, but merely a way to command it directly, unlike the common form that has been imbibed with the power, and our whispers are simply ways of us concentrating our own magic. It is quite difficult to explain, as unless you feel it yourself you cannot truly understand, but I promise you it is invigorating! I even theorize it could lead to more Blood Traits, since it lies in that realm._

_So my Heir, before I leave you, please heed my words. Do not attempt to subdue magic, command it with your natural ones. It is foolish, for only the 3 Languages may do that. Simply channel your own, allowing it to become the changes you wish. The channeling and power gain from such actions will be remarkable. Though admittedly it is simply preventing you from forcing more out, rather than growing your power directly. Listen, and watch. They are important._

That was when the door slammed open.

'Hadrian Poterimus! What have you done with our contract!?' Daphne's face was scrunched up in a way Harry found slightly cute.

'I allowed you to choose your own Husband. All he must do is sign on that line.' She stomped over, and Harry began to fear for his life. Did she honestly love him? She was only fourteen, and he himself thirteen!

'I don't care. Sign, now.' If he did, the change would be sealed in magic, and his own would apply. The difference was, since it was a broken one repaired, magic would require him to have multiple wives, as their children could no longer take his titles separately, solidifying it as a Potter contract, not as a union between the two teens.. Something that sickened him. Thankfully though, this was much more like a Muggle contract, in that it wouldn't affect them directly with magic and make them like each other, and this time it wouldn't be unbreakable, as he hadn't wanted Daphne forced into that again. Also part of the reason it could not affect them.

'But you realise-' He was cut off mid-sentence as she grabbed his hand, forced the quill in his palm and made him tap the paper. He sighed. She would never physically hurt him, that was not love, and even a slap in the wrong mood should be taken as a sign of needing to exit a relationship, but she could be quite authoritative. Though as he reflected, he would obviously have more qualms about it than her. She had been raised in a household where your last name was important, and would likely have been taken as a second wife to prevent Astoria from suffering that fate, thus resigning herself to that possibility.

'I. Said. Sign. Otherwise, my family will make Draconus, disgusting Flint, or some other nasty man sign it instead, then take it and hide the damn thing so I couldn't rip it to shreds. And I know Draco would prefer to marry my sister.' He noticed she already put her name down, and realized she was right. She'd done this on purpose.

His efforts had been wasted, it seemed. And now, he would be forced to marry another female, lest he lose his magic, and as such Daphne lose hers. This was so messed up. The primordial force was both a blessing and a curse, it seems. But he knew she was aware of the consequences and new requirements if he did this. Even more messed up, magic wouldn't allow a female to take more than one Lover, their husband. What a screwed up world.

Scribbling his name down, a flash a blue light signalled it was accepted, and Daphne left. Blowing out his candle, he wearily lied back in bed, pulling up the covers as Hedwig softly sang him goodnight. The Future, it seems, would be truly strange.

End of Year 3

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	29. Truth

**I ****do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

As usual, summer was somewhat boring. While he could spend time with his family, it really just had little to do. The last year had really had an effect on him, and he found little interest in doing 'Childish' things with Tom. It didn't help that Vernon seemed extra vicious, knowing Harry would be leaving by august. He had rarely found time for his nightly flights, as his disillusionment wasn't quite up to par, and he couldn't do so with his invisibility cloak.

'You know the only reason you go to that school is they'd kill us if we didn't send you there! Otherwise I swear you'd be dead!' His foot slammed into Harry's chest, causing him to tumble backwards and hit his head. His Uncle had not learned when to stop, though.

'I swore I'd beat the magic out of you, and I am a man of my word! You've studied there, how do I do it!? Well!?' He pounded on the Ravenclaw's legs, making him fall from where he'd been stumbling back up.

'You cannot! We are an entirely different species, and if I have my way, we will see to your kind extinct!' Harry had never considered himself a blood supremacist, especially since Hermione had proven herself far more competent than many Purebloods, but something about Muggles made his blood boil. Perhaps it was his Uncle, maybe it was the way his primary school teachers had done nothing to help him. The only one he'd see saved if he could help it, was his cousin, Ben, and May. All others were dead to him.

Slamming open the door as Vernon readied himself for another bout, he sprinted away, calling upon anything to help him. Thankfully, Dobby appeared, grabbed his hand, and apparated the two to Potter Manor, treating the boy's wounds. The elf was truly the kindest being he had met so far.

'Master Potter must go away from those Muggles.'

'I've told you Dobby, I cannot. Dudley would be in trouble, and we both know he is far better than his parents.' The elf huffed, but returned to his duties. Harry himself simply leaned his head back, closing his eyes. This happened far too often, yet there was too little that could be done. Legal measures could not be taken, seeing as they were Muggles and a magical court could not and would not convict them, and the muggle side wouldn't let him sue his guardians. Any muggle he met dismissed his pleas as first childish drama, then teenage rebelliousness.

Only Ben and May could even attempt something, but when they had tried, had found themselves denied, as they were not his guardians. When the Prime minister got involved, he ended it by saying that as a Magical, it was the Wizarding World's responsibility, despite preventing them from trying Muggles. The man was a bastard, and exactly the type of Muggle Harry wanted to destroy.

After his injuries were taken care of, Dobby apparated him to Tom's house, where Trip was sleeping over. The three had become good friends, and watched the Star Wars prequel trilogy once more. Since he couldn't exercise much lest he risk breaking his stitches, it was the perfect activity. Other than reading, but he needed to spend some time with his friends.

Trip was a good friend and brother, fierce and loyal. The boy had proven himself many times over, always providing him some comfort when things seemed tough. But no one was perfect, and the boy had his share of flaws. Much like himself, he had a bit of a Hero complex, yet also had a very strong sense of right and wrong. Anything he judged to be evil, he refused to deal with. Thankfully, Trip was far more open minded than the Ministry.

Tom was the same, but tended towards the darker things in life, which scared Harry, to a certain degree. Not out of fear of his friend falling to Voldemort, he had expressed far too much distaste at the possibility, but out of the interest he seemed to have in the Slytherin's work. But the boy's biggest issue was pride. He'd shown himself to be very arrogant, a trait Harry likened to the fact that despite being a younger and reborn version, many things would be similar or the same between the two. Distracting himself, he turned to the Tellie, and made some nasty connections.

Anakin Skywalker, a boy saved at a fair age, special and showing incredible promise. Developing a forbidden relationship, proving himself one of the best and making a brother on his journey. But plagued by nightmare and divisions, the Dark Side began consuming him, making him become the very thing he feared. The connotations were scary.

They'd both been 'Saved' around the same age, both being special and having amazing, untapped power. Harry as the Boy-Who-Lived, Skywalker as The Chosen One. They seemed to be torn from the same cloth. His relationship with Daphne, while not forbidden, was frowned upon because of the contract, and scrutinized for their families history. Demonstrating his power as the best in his year and the next, making a brother(s) along the way who trained with him but was still weaker, and plagued by nightmares and visions.

They'd been growing stronger and more often, as he saw that Nihilus-like figure, struck him down and tore off his mask to reveal himself. His fear grew, as he became more and more scared of turning evil, and had begun avoiding learning the magic which seemed to classify as such, including yellow, red, purple, and black. While it prevented him from learning important skills, he judged that the risks did not outweigh the benefits.

Even now, when all seemed normal, he thought of prophecies. They were well-known in the Magical World, and judging by everything that happened, he was scared that he just might be involved in one. But that required a look down into the Department of Mysteries, which needed special access. Sirius would probably have a way though. He decided to ask as soon as possible, and turned back to the movie. When Anakin turned to Vader, he felt a sliver of Deja Vu.

The rest of the summer progressed normally, as he spent time with his brothers. Before they left for Sirius's, Trip pulled him aside. It was clearly very serious, as there was no smile, which had been present most of the summer, instead displaying a grim line.

'Harry, I need to confess something to you. I… am not just the Fawley heir.' He was confused. How was he any more?

'I do not understand. Your last name is Fawley, is it not? How could you be the Heir of more houses?' Trip smirked.

'You're the Heir to Potter, Black and Hogwarts, how did that happen? My mother was a Shafiq, and the only remaining member is an elderly man on the edge of teetering off. By the time I reach seventeen, he'll be dead. And, because my family was responsible for the Yaxley elimination, with the exception of my stepmother, I almost certainly have it by right of conquest. No idea for sure though, since it only works if you destroy the entire family, and my stepmum might have just enough blood in her to prevent it.' Harry nodded.

'How does Right of Conquest work? I mean, I've defeated Voldemort at least Thrice now, I think. Shouldn't I have his stuff?'

'Well, no. The only reason the law was put in place was so if a blood war was cast, the destroyed family's name would not fall extinct. While she's from a far-off cadet line, as she is still technically of Yaxley blood, the title could pass onto one of her kids. Since you didn't eliminate Riddle, nor destroy his family, you can't claim the Right of Conquest. And typically so long as the last of the family dies from old age, it may pass to the line that birthed it, which I'm also unsure of. its a lot of grey areas.' He shook his head a bit to clean the spiderwebs, processing all the new information.

'Ahh, thanks Trip.' His friend nodded, and they moved over to stand at the front of the house, where Sirius and the infamous Mad-Eye Moody stood. The retired auror would be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, as a favour to Dumbledore. The man was scary and intense, as well as very perceptive. The most frightening part was his advice.

Every occasional moment, when all seemed calm, the man decided to pop-up with incredible speed, yell 'CONSTANT VIGILANCE!' and hobble off. Harry was certain the auror had mastered House-Elf apparition. But he was a nice man, as they'd had quite an interesting conversation when he'd come over for Harry's birthday at Tom's.

'_Look Lad, I know things might seem tough, but understand that it all goes away eventually. Your blood curse may be a well-kept secret, but your Grandfather and I were schoolmates, and I wanted to know why he was rejecting such a damn pretty lady! My own was enough for me, and our son's proven himself quite the strong man. Harry raised an eyebrow. Another person believed in the curse? He'd been a warrior! He should have known what happened._

'_Right, right, get to the point. Well, you've progressed far more in your relationship than you could really believe. I think if her parents hadn't stepped in, you might have even begun hugging! Doesn't seem like much, but you Potter men always seem to value intimacy more than anyone. And don't worry. I won't tell anyone about your little 'projects.'' The Ravenclaw flinched now, this man seemed to know more about him than he did! What was going on?_

'_The point is, Harry Poterimus, don't be frightened of the unknown. Embrace it, because it will pay back in spades. I just had a few bad run-ins, testing Fate. Trust me, not a good idea. Have a good Birthday, lad!' The man had given him a book on Dark curses and their counters, and left. It had proven surprisingly interesting._

'Sirius!' Tackling his godfather in a hug, they laughed as the portkey activated and vanished from sight, landing in front of a large building marked 'No.12 Grimmauld Place'. Inside it was dreary, but surprisingly clean considering it all. The answer to that became clear when several pops were heard and some House-Elves in greek togas, where the first Black had originated before moving to Europe, embroidered with the Black crest. Harry recognized them as those he'd met when he once visited Black manor, though several houses were occupied by other families, who were paying a small rental fee.

The Chang's, Davis's and Malfoy's all paid, though the Malfoy's had gotten theirs as a dowry for Narcissa, on the condition they pay a fee of 1,000 Galleons per month. Currently, they kept it at 10, seeing as they believed Draconus would inherit the Black title. Or they did, yet failed to up the price, instead requesting a meeting with the new Lord Black. Obviously, they thought they could bribe or bully him into letting them keep the house with no pay. That would not happen.

Walking into the house was an interesting affair. There was a long hallway that led directly to the kitchen, stairs to the right that led to the bedrooms, the left gave way to a sitting room. Through there, was the formal dining room, to the left of that and connecting it to the kitchen was a large library. Filled with books, he imagined Hermione might get an nerdgasm simply from looking at it. Below the stair was a door that led to the basement, where a classroom and dueling arena was set up. Sirius explained most pureblood houses contained a similar area somewhere, to teach their children how to read and write.

Given a space all to his own, Tom and Trip had each been given their own as well on the third floor and to his right, he laid back on the bed. It was soft and springy, the walls painted grey and a portrait hung of his ancestor, Phineas Nigellus Black. Hermione, Daphne and Liz would be arriving soon, Draconus and Ronald couldn't come, though apparently Luna had decided to tag along, sending them a letter, which arrived at the exact point the invitation was being prepared. Harry blamed the MacMillan blood in her, clearly it had shown some effect in her, as well as him.

'But' He mused 'It does prove itself useful, though seems to be more of a curse for me.'

Turning over in his bed after having dressed himself, he fell asleep for another restless night of terror and horrors.

A signal resounded in his head, loud and constant. It was time for his first session. The evidently Dark Wizard had not called him, and Hope had begun to sprout that he was free, and it had been a hallucination or dream. Apparently, he was not that lucky. So,m calling goodbye to his friends, telling them he'd be going for a walk, the signal grew louder as Harry stepped out onto the cement.

There he waited with a hand grasped around his rope and portkeyed them to the room he had seen before. In a chair sat the figure from before, still holding that bundle. He shivered as he recalled the voice that even now unnerved him, especially as he would have to hear it again. It had reeked of death, and this would not be a fun trip.

'So, Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. Said to be the most powerful since Merlin himself, even more so than I. Well, let us get on with your training.' He took a look around the room, memorizing every detail and escape.

The paint was a fading and peeling green, curling away from the walls much like parchment dried after water spilled. Behind it were cracked oak wood, tiny patterns seeing some sort of goal to destroy themselves. He watched as a new one formed, ever so slightly, right-left, right-left. The crack continues to grow, and the faded wood feels rough as he unconsciously moves towards it, bumps and scratches meeting his palm, calloused from his years of labour.

It had an odd lightness to it, as if he could push and it would bend outwards, yet it refused to break. There was a large holed in one side, and as he moved towards it there was a feeling of dread that met him, as if that very spot was cursed and someone feared for his life. Carefully touching it, it was as if someone had taken every feeling mankind had ever wrought from Pandora's Box and placed it here, like that very item had been implanted in the wall, designed to suck out Hope and entrap it in it's wooden walls.

It smelled of moldy leather, old polish and rainwater, the latter he suspected coming from the outside. Focusing on every scent, he absorbed them all via his advanced nose, thanking his animagus. The man left a nasty odour of unwashed skin and bad breath, broken teeth adjoined in a dirty mouth. The bundle it carried had snakeskin he recalled from the chamber, with an odd tinge of freshness, as if it had just bathed. To his left, where the doorway sat, a snake lay in wait, poised to strike if he attempted to exit through there.

Recalling his teachings from the Headmaster, he placed his palm on the cracked paint once more, trying to detect any magic. A soft hum reached out, cold and cruel. Much like the aura the bundle gave off. From there he divided it into seperate parts, different wards had different… tastes. As his focus was primarily spellcasting, he wasn't well versed in what each meant, but the key identifier of an anti-apparition was a coldness, one that felt ever-lasting. Even Dumbledore's naturally warm type had practically frozen him with its strength. Here he felt frost forming on his fingertips, and slowly let go of it. Another, anti-portkey, had a tinge of ozone, but with rare drops in it, telling Harry it was keyed to certain people.

Turning around he noticed a pine table, but unlike the rest of the room it was not frayed, instead it looked new. The linings along it did not hold a single oddity, perfect in every way. Five legs held it up, bars connecting each one to each other, with wavy patterns of red splayed across it. But even these were perfectly placed in a pattern that relaxed him, something that caused his tenseness to rise. Sitting on top of it was a globe, blue sea projecting an aura of peace.

The land was dotted with small spots of brown and red, black words spelling out each country. Yet, it was strange, as it was ordered in a way he'd never seen before. The Empire of Brazil, Republic of China, Kingdom of Britain, Republic of America, and many more. But some didn't even exist, most of Africa was divided into either a Northern or Southern label, and the entire Middle East was united as one. Alaska didn't exist, but was still part of Canada, Hawaii was its own major superpower, and most notably Australia was divided in two. How had he not heard of this? These sorts of things seemed important, especially when Britain owned part of Russia, apparently.

Stepping closer he inspected the details, noticing even more that seemed wrong. Antarctica was almost entirely a lush green, but there was a label saying it's temperatures were so cold no life whatsoever could exist, except in certain parts. Had magicals done this to the land? Had they made it habitable, yet not shared with the Muggles? It definitely made sense, especially when among the darkness of the deepest sections, he made out the Democracy of the Antarctic.

And he spotted a line going along the equator, so blended in you wouldn't be able to see it with normal eyes. Carefully prying it back, another planet was present. Completely black with orange lines running through it, the celestial body looked eerily like that of Coruscant, but the colour of the orange was all wrong. In fact, recalling the Star Warsian place, the patterns were different. Where was this? Why was it labeled as Dead?

'Ahh, you have found what I hoped you would. Yes, that is Draoidheachd, the homeworld of Magical people. I suppose Muggles would have once technically been welcomed, but we split off far too long ago now.'

'What… What is this!? I've never even heard of it!' There was a sense of amusement emanating from the figure as Harry twirled it around, memorizing every detail.

'Of course. It has long been forgotten where we all originated from.' There was an intake of breath as they began. Harry turned his head sharply to listen.

'We are not the Originals. Our species has lived for billions of years, and even now we are not what we once were. Advanced in culture and technology, space travel was a commodity afforded to even the poorest of people. Our homeworld was far larger than Earth is, and more diverse of resources. But when it was in danger of collapsing from our own greed and arrogance, the best of us sought to save our race.' While far-fetched and sounded like bullshit, some degrees made sense.

'Our kind crash landed, it was on this desolate wasteland of rock. The Dinosaurs had just died, with there being no hope for life's continued survival. It seemed to be the end of us. But the smartest amongst that group figured, if we were to hide ourselves and wait until it passed, perhaps we could repair it? A Noble Quest, but in the end a futile one. Most died, and the few who remained were mentally challenged, because the stasis pods were not designed to go on for so long.' This… it had to be a lie.

Slowly we bred and built ourselves up, at some point in the process Muggles were born. But I really have no idea how they were truly created. Thankfully, this planet was teeming with magic, and allowed us to regain our former strength, if not our intelligence. That the animals here had natural magic simply assisted us in fostering our resurgence. Phoenix and Thunderbirds, Basilisk and Naga, each one allowed us to retain our new connection with this planet and grow.' A long pause took hold, which Harry took advantage of to look at the chair.

There were rips and tears, green padding faded into black as white stuffing stuck out. There was a lining of _something _that looked oozy and gross. When he reached out to touch it, there was a sensation of disgust that became overcome with curiosity, but as he pulled back it too retreated to it's resting spot, and he was bewildered by it's behaviour. What was it?

'I do not know everything, merely what has been told to me. But I suspect you will have doubts, so read through these.' With a snap, several figures appeared and handed Harry books, which he sat down to read. They all essentially said what the figure had, and with a quick spell he'd learned from Severus, their age confirmed it. But how?

'It is not how, you should be asking, but why? If they had the technology to travel galaxies, could they not have chosen a more suitable planet, larger and prosperous? Perhaps even struck a deal with their allies, the-'

'Gallifreyans.' He looked up with wide eyes, as he read over them. Their biology was fascinating, with two hearts that were used to pump pure energy through their veins to mutate their DNA into something new, at least superficially. It even healed life-threatening wounds. With lifespans spanning thousands of years a life, they likely bred so slowly their population never increased beyond a few billion. And if their homeworld was really this large, they could have easily split with the old magicals, and there would have been enough room for several other species. Especially since the Magical population capped out at Three Billion. After that, Magic itself prevented them from making more children than one for every person a life. There had been so many studies it was incredible.

'Indeed, if their history truly went so far back and there was enough room, why not share? I believe i've found the answer.' Harry paid the utmost attention. 'Because they couldn't. Seers may be a rarity nowadays, but they had entire sects devoted to Future-Sight. And their evidence told them they had to rebuild, to remake themselves. Only then, when they had finally hit the point the Gallifreyans had already met, peaceful, honourable and no infighting, if not a little arrogant, only then could they truly rejoin their brethren. I know you can look in your DNA, identify the points you need to.'

Carefully peering into his cell structure, he analyzed what was inside. What he saw shocked him. Endless potential, they could transform into anything. But deeper than that, he saw it. They were far more advanced than what others thought. Beyond the superficial identifications they were more of a new species, were traits of a far older variety. Locked sequences inside their genome. Not a blank slate, but a covered painting. How was this possible?

Dumbledore had long since taught him how to peer at what made him, for knowing yourself was the best way to channel magic and physical limitations were important. But now… there was more at work here. The old man had clearly had an ulterior motivation to show him, beyond just assisting him in his magic.

_He had known. He always knew_. It dawned on him like a brick slamming against concrete, smashing it open as new information poured inside his head a million meters a minute. How was this possible!? What was going on!? What kind of conspiracy was happening!?

'Humans never existed.' The Figure went on, allowing the boy time to come to grips with these revelations. 'For what species on this plant of Birds and Reptiles could have created us? The sentients of this planet are long since known. Silurians are the natives here. So if not that, what are we?'

Harry's throat moved up and down, sweat pouring off him as the realization came.

'We are…'

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	30. Moonlight Sonata

**I** **do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

Today was exciting! The Quidditch World Cup, which Ronald and Draco had been raving about for ages was finally upon them. Viktor Krum was a world wide celebrity, even Harry was a bit of a fan after watching a few games, though severely disappointed by his lackluster team. The game would likely be the answer as to whether it was the Team or the Seeker that truly made them win, as the Irish excelled where the Bulgarians failed, with vice versa being true.

_The morning is proving quite boring_, Harry mused as he sat there, thinking. As it had been a week since the meeting with the figure, he'd pondered over the latest revelations. After his reveal, the meeting had ended and he'd been sent home. With no idea when the next would come, he could only speculate since there was no one to question. Sirius would ask where he found the information, if the man even knew, Dumbledore would pry it from his mind, even if that would end painfully, and there was no one else of the necessary age or status he could ask, since the Malfoy's were far too young a family, Tom didn't have the memories of his older self and Trip 's father had died before the boy had reached the age he would have been told.

His Grandfather proved to be quite ignorant on the subject, choosing to focus on dueling, much like himself, rather than history. The Greengrasses might know something, but he was unwilling to be in a room alone with them, much less ask them such an important question. So for now, it would just be an unanswered query until either his next meeting or some other opportunity to confirm it.

Ronald finally stomped down to join them, where Sirius and Mrs. Weasley were sitting, eating some bacon and eggs. Harry himself had simply chosen some toast to nibble on as he read the Prophet. He'd ordered the one that arrived in Poland, seeing as Britain's outlet had turned into no more than a gossip rag. Putting it down, he decided to observe the room. After all, the wards may be strong, but that didn't mean no threat could get in.

The lighting was quite dreary, with only one fixture whose light bulb flickered at least once a day, bathing the area in a yellow glow. The tiles on the wall had dozens of cracks, and at one point he thought he had seen an eye staring back at him. The floor was made of the same, and in addition to the light presented a once lavish, pearly white kitchen into a dank space that seemed on the verge of collapse. Every room seemed to match this description, which made the fact this was once a Black Manor all the more depressing.

Arcturus's no doubt would be in far better condition, without the windows that were spider-webbed, cobwebs growing in every corner, doxies behind every curtain and Kreacher not being a little bastard to everyone but him and Sirius, the latter solely because Harry ordered him not to. Thankfully, being a Pure-Blood mannered Half-Blood from several ancient families satiated the elf's need for a powerful master, and at the very least respected Harry, Sirius as his Godfather being allowed the same. It helped that if explained right, he could technically get away with calling himself a Pure-blood.

The stove was the only respectable looking appliance, cleaned over and over by the Weasley Matriarch to busy herself and ensure they didn't all die from poison when they ate. Or at the very least, Ronald could get his midnight snack without waking the entire house. How the boy spent any time actually talking was a miracle. Then again, his manners did leave something to be desired.

Soon, they would be heading to the Burrow, where the Weasley's Manor had once stood, instead falling into disarray after several wars where they had been quite radical. 90% of it's once large walls had been lost, and he felt a tinge of sorrow that such an ancient building had been lost just because of some poor decisions. Yet, nobody was perfect, perhaps he could even help them repair it. All it needed was a bit of family magic along with a powerful wizard to perform the right spell. Honestly, it was surprising Dumbledore hadn't helped them.

Once everyone was seated, Arthur began- a stout, short man was balding with the normal red hair that plagued the family, revealing their native Irish heritage, along with the fact the man had pulled him aside to explain it after he had revealed his status as technical King of Ireland to the man. As Lord Weasley, Harry had thought Arthur could provide some advice, though as he was basically ruled over by his wife, the man could offer nothing. His excuse had been his father was lazy.

Moving to the floo, he quickly grabbed some powder and called out for 'The Burrow!' and stepped out, stumbling head over arse as the floo, per usual, hated him. He'd only managed a perfect landing a few times, and was constantly humbled when someone else did it perfectly. Arthur had apparently mastered it, which was honestly really disappointing. Thankfully, Sirius had relayed to the boy that both his parents had been just as terrible, and his Grandfather admitted in private that Dorea had never been able to grasp how to do so, whispering as if the woman could hear him.

Standing up, he looked around. It had an aura of coziness, with a constant hum of magic that was apparently keeping the house up, with what he'd learned from Mr Weasley. The many generations living here had strengthened it to a level few had ever seen, as the Weasley's had been one of the oldest and most prominent families in Magical Britain. But they had chosen a peaceful life free of politics, something that appeared genetic, with the exception of Ronald and Ginevra.

Every couch in the room was frayed, yet clearly strong and had been repaired many times over, if his detection were right. The walls were an amazing Hickory, polished to a level he hadn't thought possible, and only seen in one other object. An unconscious shiver flew through him. Moving on and out the Living area, he walked to the dining room, with a clock that held every Weasley face pointed towards a certain state of health, each one signaled 'At Home.' The table was long, and a bit farther was a door to the kitchen, with dishes stacked up neatly, not a speck of dirt present.

Sitting in a chair, he glanced up the steps to the other rooms as everybody else took a seat. They would be protkeying to the Cup, and he idly toyed with the rope. Everybody glanced his way but began discussing what would happen, the Weasley twins spot on with his prediction, however disappointing it would be. Tuning them out, he thought of his pets, and how they were.

Each one was staying at Potter manor, watched over by the elves until Hogwarts began again and he could take them. Patrick, his Bowtruckle had been too stubborn, and he decided in the end it just wasn't worth it. Pat and Stew got up to a lot of trouble though, and he was really considering just leaving the Tree in a random nest. But each time the little cretin used his puppy-eyes, it melted him. Damn the little bastard!

But he thought back to Hedwig, and gave a little smile. He suspected both she and Gracie had known Erebus was actually Sirius, but let him believe the dog was just that-a dog. He supposed it wasn't the worst thing they could have done, Phoenix were known for their 'magical' judge of character, and Dragons could just incinerate anyone who crossed them. While he didn't enjoy secrets being held from him, in the end he supposed it was for the best.

Nyx was fine and curled around his feet, though he quickly shooed her off. The Kneazle, which was basically a cat who was smarter and had a lion's tail, preferred to stay with him rather than at the manor. He certainly didn't complain, though the cat hair on his chest when he woke up was quickly growing annoying. Her jet black coat was rare amongst Kneazles, but he just thought it made her a bit more unique, to which she seemed to agree.

The hike to the apparent portkey, a dirty old boot, was a surprising trek. Rocks kept tripping him up, with long grass present everywhere that was a wonderful green, though annoying when knots formed that caught his foot. They met Cedric Diggory and his father, Amos, at the location. Cedric appeared a pleasant boy who had a handsome face, and he recalled the Seventh Year was the Hufflepuff Seeker, thus allowing them to foster a good friendship and rivalry. Deciding to walk with him and get to know the boy some more as they waited for the activation, he quickly began.

'So, Cedric, eh? How are you doing?' The Hufflepuff was surprised, but quickly gained his footing.

'I'm good, how's your summer been? I heard you live with Muggles.' Grumbling, Harry responded.

'Yes, and they are not the pleasant sort. But, they are what is left of my family. So I stay there because of some protections. Honestly, between you and me though, If my Cousin did not live there, I would have left ages ago. How are your grades?' Cedric was puzzled by the change of subject, but took it in stride.

'I'm first in my year, and hoping I manage at least eight NEWTS, though that might be a bit generous. After that, I'm hoping for a Transfiguration Mastery.' Harry's eyes widened. It wasn't often someone sought a mastery, especially a Pureblood, since there were so many options available that few ever wanted to become teachers. Dumbledore had hired Lupin and Goldihart for a reason, and it certainly wasn't because there were lines of people looking to sign up for the job.

'That is quite some ambition there. Good thing you are in the house for the hard-working, eh?' Cedric laughed.

'Yeah, what about you? I'm sure you have some goals for the future?'

'Well, I am a bit young to really be thinking about that, but I suppose some have appeal. Auror, Wand-making sounds fascinating though I do not think Ollivander takes apprentices outside of his family, Spell Creation is dangerous but quite rewarding, and Magizoology is of particular interest to me.' His friend nodded along.

'Well, first, you are family to Ollivander. I'm his great-great-grandnephew on my mum's side, and my great-grandaunt married a Potter, pretty sure it was your great-grandfather, but I'd have to make sure. Hold on a moment.' The man pulled out a spare piece of parchment that he dropped a bit of blood on, asking Harry to do the same, to reveal a family tree that showed their connections.

'Yeah, see? Right there, Mary Diggory to Henry Potter, and farther up here is Marty Ollivander, Garrick's father. So I believe that makes us Third Cousins, though I'm not totally certain.'

'Ok, now just one question, why do you have that with you?' Harry was stumped why someone would carry a family tree in their pocket.

'Oh, this is just a spare piece of parchment, magical blood has special properties so that when it interacts with the paper, it can do a whole bunch of things. I just commanded it to show a family tree, the ones that connect our families. It's the biggest reason we don't use the paper muggles have, because it's thicker and has many, many more magical qualities than theirs.'

'Oh… That is cool, thanks Cedric, or should I say, cousin.'

They walked along in comfortable silence all the way up to the hill, where stood an old, moldy boot. The smell that came off it made him turn his nose, even Ronald, whose habit of not showering left many of those around him with the urge to puke at times, was turned away. Mr Weasley and Mr Diggory seemed unaffected, though.

'Alright everyone, touch a finger to the shoe. Yes, I know it does reek, but we all have to.'

'Ugh, This stinks even more than the chamber.' Those nearby looked at him oddly but waved it off as he used his middle finger to give it the slightest poke, and Mr Weasley began a countdown.

'Three… Two… One…' As he finished, there was a sudden jerk in his stomach, like a fishing hook behind his navel that tugged him along. Even with his finger touching it, that one connection felt unbreakable, as they passed locations in a swirling cloud of blue. When it stopped, most were thrown away, but Harry, using a weak wandless levitation charm, managed to prevent complete collapse into a tangle of limbs. Mr Weasley, Mr Diggory and Cedric seemed to walk on pure air as they arrived. Hermione, who Harry just noticed, was beet red as she came out of the mass and saw him.

Catching up to her, he was quick to ask what was wrong. 'Hermione, what happened? You look like Ronald's hair.'

'My, uh… My skirt flipped.' She mumbled this as she shied away and he stood there, stunned. That seemed like a scary prospect. He certainly knew he wouldn't want anyone looking at his… uh, best move on.

Now with burning cheeks, he moved on, looking out across a field of tents in varying colours, particularly red, black, green or gold. While he was a fan of Krum, who he'd read about in the few books he had checked out on seeker moves, The Irish were more local, and as a result the Britain natives who didn't support Krum were with Ireland. It seemed quite a few were split.

'Yeah! Let's go see Krum!' Ronald, who had somehow located a Bulagarian-coloured hat, appeared at his side cheering. Thankfully, Mr Weasley put a stop to that.

'Hold on, we've got to check in and find our tent. Boys, go take the younger teens to find their friends, you've got five galleons each for a stipend. Amos and I will get it set up. Meet us here in ten minutes, understood?; The Twins, Percy, and Cedric all nodded as the adults moved on.

'Everyone, come on, the marketplace is over there!' Fred pointed to a large area filled with stands and shops, as Ronald sprinted over carrying his five coins. Harry quickly fished out twenty, giving Hermione ten. She would want to bring some souvenirs for her parents.

Moving over to the first one, he bought a couple ice creams, then purchased a scarf in Irish colours, a Krum set of Omnioculars, then for the hell of it got a couple books, one on Krum and his rise to fame for Ronald, one for Draco on Chaser moves, which he suspected the boy would be good at if his Ego could handle being out of the spotlight, two for Trip and Tom each about Veela culture and Quidditch, with one finally for Hermione about Intelligent Witches and Their Contributions to Society. Spotting a gold necklace at a fair price, he quickly snagged it, slipping the chain into his pocket for Christmas. Hopefully Daphne would appreciate it.

The others had bought some food, and after grabbing some himself he sat down. The conversation was nice and peaceful, if not a bit dull. By the time the day ended, he was feeling a bit drowsy. Thankfully, the next event would bring out a lot of adrenalin.

Walking up the steps to the Top Box with everyone up there, Harry grimaced a bit. Draco had told him that his Father and Mother would be there as well. Their boy may be nice now, but he remembered how the Slytherin had been at first. The Ravenclaw did NOT want to meet the people who could raise someone like that. But perhaps, if he had the capacity to change as dramatically as he did, one of them was alright. Possibly.

After a while they finally made it up, and a very loud groan escaped his lips as he spotted the Minister. Fudge was… to say the least… a brown-noser. A disgusting wretch of a wizard who represented the worst of them all. At least Voldemort was powerful, and Lucius had real strength to back up his claims. Fudge was practically Vernon in a Politicians guise. Yet at least his Uncle was clever enough to realise when others were manipulating him, this man's nickname was Lucius's Puppet, and it was like he didn't even hear it. If he didn't know about the defences set in place, he'd have suspected the man under Imperius.

'Ahhh, Mr Potter, how are you?' His brown suit did not suit him, with a green cap atop his head doomed to carry a hairless chin, black gloves and green boots. Strangely, a small cut was present across his cheek, and Harry immediately noted this man, while useless, had at least some strength to him. The cut had not been healed instantly, suggesting a dark curse. Curious.

The glass was not viable, even going back was blocked by the congregation of people. The only real way out was blasting a hole in the roof, which would show off too much power too quickly. Whoever had designed these had not planned for an attack. Disappointing.

'I'm quite well, Minister. Excited for the game. Who do you expect to win?' Powerful allies were powerful allies, no matter how distasteful.

'Why the Irish, of course! Truly strong, and regional. I believe the locals will be in their favour. Well, with the exception of that boy.' He looked pointedly at Ronald, and Harry glanced back. His friend was wearing a large red and black hat, a large Krum jersey and a pair of omnioculars in the Bulgarian colours.

He raised a skeptical eyebrow but moved on to the newest arrivals, the Malfoys. Greeting Draco with a firm handshake, he gave the same to Lucius and kissed the back of Narcissa's hand. Most Purebloods now either simply bowed or did nothing, at least to equals or those below them. But by displaying an extra hand of extravagance, Harry had essentially announced his intentions as Lord. The subtle show of his rings helped as well. Honestly, it was Lucius who should be bowing to him, but in the presence of the Minister who was, ironically, against many Traditions, despite those used being in place solely to protect culture and History without copying Muggles or hindering Wizards.

When Narcissa raised an eyebrow at his actions, he knew they would be taken into consideration. The parents would encourage their child to befriend him, as had happened several times. Hannah Abbott and Cho Chang had been denied betrothals, He'd rejected Zacharias Smith and Blaise Zabini's offers of alliance. He already had those he inherited(Bones, Longbottom, Dashwood, Rushworth, Greengrass, Lovegood, and Dumbledore), along with those he'd made thus far(Weasley, Black via his Godfather, Fawley, and Ollivander). That was rough to nearly having complete control over the Wizengamot, but thanks to the Old Law he couldn't have any sort of complete control, his seats would be downsized in power until he divided them amongst his children, and some matters would be designed for specific types of houses.

Unfortunately for them, it would not work out the way they hoped, As he had Sirius, who'd claimed his spot on the Wizengamot over the summer, working on protecting Draco from any of the nastier influences of his life with the Malfoy Elder. Whether or not it would work depended entirely on Draco and his choices.

When he turned back to the game, it had already started. The mascots of both teams, the Bulgarians cheerleaders(Why were all the men looking at them strangely?), and the Irish leprechauns were in a fierce duel as their teams fought. It appeared the apparent Fire-throwing beak-faced females of the red and black team were winning.

While The idea of watching a sports game might be appealing to some, and especially one who was Muggle-raised, inevitably it lost its shine and simply grew boring. Ron loved them, but he soon tore his eyes from the excitement of the chasers and just lazily watched Krum do his tricks in the same energy level as he.

It should be noted the Omnioculars were mostly for disguise, as his Hawk sight allowed him to spot them without assistance. But soon enough he was even tired of that, as he looked over his shoulder, and saw everybody had their eye on the game. Missing the drool coming from the males as they watched the field, he snuck away. Camping out on a nearby bleacher, he sat down and pulled out his moleskine pouch gifted by Remus, and found what he was looking for.

_Veela and their Culture_.

_Veela are fierce female creatures who seek a lifelong mate, and is the term used to refer to both species. Their male equivalent is the Libidine, though there are small portions of their population that branch off the mainland(Carnasia) into the Wizarding People, seeking strong mates to bring back to the Capital. In some rare cases, however, they may remain in our world. It is said the Poterimus line has Libidine blood in them, and Bones have Veela, giving credence to the manifestation of beauty famed in their Clans, though it is as of yet unproven._

_They have a natural allure that attracts most men, though there are some rare ones that prove immune, yet typically they are associated to have some ancestor of the species belonging to the opposite gender. To clarify, lest you have a Libidine ancestor, you will not be immune to a Veela. Lest you have a Veela ancestor, you will not be immune to a Libidine. There are no magical abilities that give you any other protections, and typically this immunity is the only thing to manifest in a Wizard or Witch of either Descent._

_But be warned, as most Veela and Libidine take it as a sign of eligibility, and will stop at nothing to take them as a mate. As such, protections must be put in place if Veela, or their immediate children, should be placed within 100 meters of a Libidine descendant, or vice-versa. Otherwise it will result in chaos and possible non-consensual procreation, even death, if the target is not an experienced witch or wizard._

Harry sucked in a breath. This was not good. He did not trust anyone in the Ministry to put in proper protections, even Dumbledore did not have that foresight. After all, it was supposed to merely be rumours that there were any with Veela blood in them. But then how did the people in this book get their data? So he ran to the Weasley tent, quickly planning out the letter he was going to write. But he didn't even get halfway when he caught sight of something horrible. A Muggle family was being tortured by the edges of the tent by masked people. Considering the excitement that would be rolling off the crowd when the game ended, and the clear lack of stealth these group put in motion, he gave it a few hours before complete chaos descended upon the camp.

Suddenly, he came up with an idea. He'd been told over and over he was supposed to be this all-powerful character, and Flitwick told him he was his most accomplished duelist. Mabe he could take them on, prevent all the destruction, terror and murder they would cause.

With mind set on saving the family and preventing Death from having his day, he began stalking over to the others, gripping his wand tightly in hand. Taking off his glasses, he channeled all his Magic into his arm, and like a Tidal Wave he launched it at his opponents. He used his strongest stunner, which Dumbledore had always taught him to use first, and a large ball of sparkling red was released, hitting the Masked People.

It didn't even faze them.

Now sweating slightly, he drew his wand up and swirled it in a circle around him, allowing a wallf of fire to encircle him as he crouched down, staring at his foes who had finally seen him. They took one glance, and abandoned the family to run over, quickly launching attacks. Drawing up his shield, Harry blocked every single one while preparing to launch a bone-breaker.

But it was deflected.

'Waa..?' His circle was jumped over by one of the figures, who ripped off their mask and hood to reveal Bellatrix Lestrange, from the newspapers which he had searched looking for possible information on what the event Percy Weasley had talked about when he visited the Burrow at one point. While he hadn't found anything, he had discovered many stories about Death Eaters,

The woman cackled, and spoke in an insane baby voice. 'So Hawwy Powwer wants to pway wit the big kids now? Well, I guess we need to teach wittle Potty here how they enjoy their time. Crucio!' It felt like hundreds of needles shoving themselves into his skin over and over, boiled and burned into his muscles as he screamed out, turning into a roar as something boiled in his veins. An inhuman energy rushed into him, as just for a second, fear flashed into Lestranges cold eyes.

He rose as power overcame pain, And he launched a blasting curse at the insane woman. It missed, and instead destroyed part of his ring. She looked back, uneasiness sketched onto her features, but she continued the spell as he collapsed once more, exhausted.

He wasn't ready.

How could he defeat Voldemort if he was this weak, and didn't even manage to scratch a Death eater, someone so weak they followed the man as a god? No, it was like Snape had always said. All he had on his side was raw power, and while that might get him by low-level death eaters, he needed skill and experience to be able to stop Voldemort and his inner circle. For now, he was nothing but an insignificant Gnat the Old Man would wipe off his shoe, but came lucky every time.

Not to say the man wasn't dead focused on killing him, but he had been lucky every time he got away. And now it was coming back to bite him on the arse as he writhed and shivered. Blood seeped from his mouth as his last baby tooth, the most stubborn one that Madam Pomfrey had said would fall out soon, broke off and left his mouth.

The Mad Woman ended the curse and readied herself for another spell, thus frightening him. His fear grew far more when she launched it upwards and a whip of fire came from the tip. Cackling, she brought it down on his back three times, all in the same place as she tore his back into pieces, muscle sizzling as he screamed, carving into his bone. Tears and bloody spittle fell to the ground as he shouted in pain and anger, while the concentrated fire landed on his spine.

One of them called for Bellatrix as they spoke, until she finally grumbled out an angry murmur and shot a spell into the sky, grabbing a rope at her waist and portkeyed away, as he fell asleep under the night sky, crying in pain, tasting copper and shivering from the after-effects of the curse, blood slowly oozing into the ground. Only one thing filled his mind as he drifted off into an uncomfortable rest.

Revenge.

**R&R Plz!**


	31. Here come the Warriors

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

Focusing, channeling all his power, he launched a spell at the dummy. Rather than exploding into a million pieces, as the spell suggested would happen, it sputtered out. Much like the ball of red Harry'd sent at Bellatrix. This was growing very annoying, and he honestly couldn't figure out why. His power had been demonstrated considerably before, like when he had fought and defeated Flitwick, the man who could just about beat Dumbledore himself.

None of the Old Man's teachings were working. Despite focusing on his family and friends, his magic refused to comply, and his anger was growing palpably. While admittedly that might affect it, he suspected this wasn't the case, as it had not had much of an effect before.

Deciding he needed a break from the hour-long magical workout, he settled into the meditation position Severus had taught him. Dumbledore had given him some tips but overall had become more of a recluse, much like himself. The scars on his back had yet to heal, and he refused to take his shirt off anywhere public, even fought the Nurse at the Cup when she had tried to get him to sit up. Eventually he had been flipped and tied down, as gasps of horror emanated from the others.

They had stunned him immediately, and when he woke up, it had been in Potter Manor, with his back bandaged. In the rage borne from that he had torn them up, and seen the wound in his mirror. It was an ugly blackened line of skin and muscle, as it seemed the Healers had managed to put a dent in the recovery. But he didn't want to recover.

He ensured it would always stay there, to remind him of his idiocy and naivety, that he has limits and he needs more training. So every morning when he got up, he looked in the mirror. His emerald eyes, black hair, shadows of a future beard, strong chin, high cheekbones, average ears, into the pools of liquid that made his irises. The glass that seemed to have shattered on that fateful night, that arrogance and foolishness borne from laziness and passive behaviour.

So he stood up, and looked upon the wall opposing him. He had one chance, as he imagined Voldemort's visage, or at least what he believed it was. An older Tom with a fierce frown and deep growl. He had one chance to destroy the man before he was killed himself. So he channelled every emotion, rage, anger, sadness, joy, pain, love, hate. He used every single one, breathed in, breathed out.

And casted.

Nothing.

'GRAAHHH!' he screamed it out to the ceiling, as he fell to the floor, wand slipping to his side, slumping. Nothing was working. His magic was broken.

—-

Sitting at the Ravenclaw table for the fourth time was a boring affair. He had far more pressing matters to attend to, especially on the verge of discovering the secret of the Ligthsabers. While he couldn't cast magic, he'd been practicing sensing it. And he could feel the energy here. He could make his and his friends' dreams come true, become real jedi, something that would have been far more unrealistic for mundane children. Not for Warlocks.

They would allow him to concentrate more, because they were a weapon for the confident, the wary, and the strong. They were meant for a true warrior, and now was his time. He would become powerful enough to stop Voldemort, end this war once and for all, truly have a family. So, with finishing that thought, he turned to Dumbledore's final words. Everybody seemed shocked by them.

'-Wizard Cup. There will be two wizarding schools joining us, Beaxbatons, from France, known traditionally for their High Class and, due to no small part, their Arrogance, as well as Durmstrang, from Norway, known for their Powerful Wizards and notorious for their training in the Dark Arts. While they are all children and I do encourage new friendships as the point of this tournament is to grow allies and international cooperation, I want you not to offend any of them. We may be the most prestigious school, that doesn't mean we should grow egos. The Downfall of the Greatest in History is their Arrogance.' With that, he sat down and raised his hands for the meal to begin, while rumours and talk began amongst the many tables.

'So, how pretty do you think the French Birds will be? Eh, Harry?' It was Ronald.

'I am sure they will be attractive, though admittedly my focus lies more in why they are below Hogwarts, and Durmstrang.'

'They're sex-specific schools, so Durmstrang is all-boys, Beaxbatons is all-girls. It's meant to reduce sexual distractions and allow people to be more comfortable in their environments, since someone might be so distracted by their opposing sex, or so uncomfortable by them, their grades suffer. They're well known for their rivalry, since those that don't make it into Hogwarts typically go there.' Blaise spoke in a calm manner, as Harry was startled by his appearance. He really needed to focus more on his environment, than just exits.

'Where do those of the gender that don't belong to the school go to? It seems like a pretty major disadvantage for all the French guys to be uneducated, and I doubt Swedish girls appreciate being denied an education.' Ronald asked a question that didn't apply to Quidditch. Even more surprising.

'Well, they're two sides of the same coin. As there are only three schools in all of Europe, and unless at least one of your parents were in Hogwarts, it's almost impossible to get in, lest you are a Muggleborn who shows a lot of promise. So any boys in Europe who don't make it go to Durmstrang, and any girls go to Beauxbatons. It really takes away from their "Reputation' since there are really only 17 schools in the entire world, excluding Carnasia. But that's for Veela and Libidine only. 16, now that I think about it, one of them is in ruins and being rebuilt.' Draco had been taught by his mother, so not too surprising.

'I've never heard of Carnasia until recently, what is up with it? How is it only Veela and Libidine? And do individuals of either species go to school outside of Carnasia?' Harry was really curious, as the book had hardly gone into it, and the globe only showed an undetailed map.

'Ok, this is super complicated and I'm not sure I can totally get it in one sitting, so I recommend the library, but I can give you a run down.' Draco was from the Black Family, and as a result had very faint ties to the Poterimus. He didn't carry the genetics of those who had Libidine or Veela blood in them, but he would have been taught some history.

'Carnasia is a continent, the Wizarding equivalent to Antarctica, only it's ruled by the Veela and Libdine in an ironically overpowered ward the keeps it's temperatures to a level that is nigh-on unlivable, with heat that extends to levels of 65.5 celsius, as they are creatures that live in naturally hot environments. In the Carnasian War, they took over that land from Wizards and a peace treaty was made, thus entrapping them into that ward, with very little ability to leave or get in, controlled by the native peoples.' Harry nodded, but was a bit curious.

'What's the Carnasian War?' Hermione, the knowledge-seeker, finally asked a question.

'Not right now. Anyways, it is divided into two countries, Sarania, and Mentara. Sarania holds the Libidine, Mentara the Veela. Occasionally they mingle to breed, and the resultant offspring goes to that genders Capital. Really, that's all the general public knows, though yes, individuals do go outside, as you know. It's very rare that those that do leave, don't go back with a mate taken from the outside, to increase the gene pool and prevent inbreeding. In fact, it has only happened twice, with the Poterimus and Bones families. Thankfully, only the main line inherits the resultant abilities, as it is a nightmare. You are not the first time the Poterimus lineage has been reduced to a single member because of a mad-man, or, I suppose, mad-woman.'

'Really? Why?' Hermione was practically begging, but at Harry's own confused face, a scowl crossed Dracos.

'C'mon, Potter. You and I need to talk.' His friends tried to follow, but they were refused, while Harry's confusion only grew.

They arrived at an abandoned classroom and he was shoved in while Draco locked the door and sat on a desk, looking pointedly at him. Now the Ravenclaw was really confused, his friend was acting very strangely, and this erratic behaviour probably didn't bode well.

'What do you know about Wizarding Culture, Potter?' The cold tone threw him off, and responded as best he could.

'I read a bunch of books in the Potter Library, and was told about the Goblin War by my account manager.' The sigh that came from the Malfoy Heir put him on the defensive, but before he could respond they started their explanation.

'Then you are severely lacking. Most of Wizarding History is spread by word of mouth, from generation to generation. Most ancient families hold a record but it is hidden and used only in emergencies. The Potter one was lost ages ago, and nobody has found it since. As such, it falls to me to teach you our history. I don't want to do this, But it has to be done. So you will sit there, and listen. Got it? Harry nodded.

'Good. There are six major wars. Name them.'

'Well, there is the Goblin War, the… Carnation War? I don't know any others.'

'Palpatine, Troll, Muggle, and Time War. They are the keys to understanding how we got here. There are some of the more minor ones, Goblin Rebellions, you know, the stuff Binns goes on about. But he was a Half-Blod of a minor family. He didn't know the secrets our Society that hide in the deepest depths of our hearts, that we never forget and never repeat to another soul because it haunts us. I'm going to describe four, as they were the most important, the other one was just the creation of Carnasia.'

'Why? Why tell me?' Harry was seriously confused by his behaviour.

'Because every Ancient Family is important, and yours is one of the greatest. Those who don't know History are doomed to repeat it, and you WILL shape our future. First, the Goblin War.' Draco took a deep breath. 'It was the time our people were destroyed, reduced to three different populations as the rest of the factions were killed off. The Light, Dark, and the Grey. They survived because they were uniquely adapted to learn every type of magic. It happened a bit before the founders, as they were the first to master and teach every aspect. Hufflepuff taught Yellow and Dark, Ravenclaw Blue and Light, Slytherin Green and Purple, and Gryffindor Red and Pink, with some crossover.' Harry nodded as he carefully listened to each one, memorising them.

'Each has a Modern-Day equivalent, though I can't recall them off the top of my head. That was basically that war, the Fall of the Factions is another name for it. Then there is the Palpatine War. The most important of all, and the end of most families. Hundreds fell, reducing them to thirty, as the Champion of them all, Sheev Palpatine, also known as Etherion Potter.' Harry gasped.

'H-How!? What!?' Draco looked upon him in sadness.

'The Poterimus family was thriving, Ireland was the most powerful country in the world as their Rulers were incredibly powerful. Then, the heir was assassinated by the King of England, who had been seeking more territory. It sent the world into chaos, and the King became depressed. His Third Heir became crazed, and began reuniting people to take revenge. Etherion Potter was angry, thirsted for vengeance, and he was fierce about it. Started running rampant, beginning in North America, all the way to Australia, Japan and the Ottoman Empire. His power was insatiable, his hunger for revenge unquenchable. The only one who could stop him, was his Father. So, when Marcus Potter-Peverell rose from his throne, it is said there was a world-wide shiver.' He began speaking with passion, and Harry was enraptured by his explanation.

'The Father traveled the latest country to fall to his son's hand, Russia, and stood tall. Some tell tales of Earthquakes, Volcanoes erupting and a massive battle. But no, it was one simple spell launched. The birth of the Killing Curse came from that fight, launched by the Son as the Father sacrificed his life. In his grief, Etherion, or Sheev, killed himself, as his older brother took the Irish Throne, rebuilt his country and gave up his Kingdom. Such was the tale of the Father and Son.' Draco blushed as he realised what he'd said, and backed up. 'Sorry, I love that one. My Mother read it to me every night before bed. Anyways, we should move on to the Troll and Muggle War, with the Time War being last.' Harry nodded.

'The Troll war is infamous because it took down one of the most infamous families ever, the Blacks. I said that you were not the first time the families had been so reduced, and I was not joking. About 250 years ago, the Troll population was at an all-time high, and becoming incredibly dangerous. Muggle sightings of them induced such myths as the 'Bigfoot' and 'Sasquatch' as well as 'Yeti', though that is an actual class. They were far more intelligent back then, and had created a society, but Wizards wouldn't stand for it. Follow so far?' Harry nodded, motioning for his friend to move on.

'So the Minister at the time, a Blood-Purist, declared open war on them. Instead of integrating them, creating more space and allowing them to develop, he decided to eradicate all of their kind. So everyone took up arms, as the Wizard army grew to battle the upcoming threat, who themselves began preparing as soon as news reached them. All able wizards and witches, even those from ancient families, could not escape the call to action, as despite being a Blood-Purist, the Minister was from a relatively new Pureblood family, and had little respect for those above him. He wanted to see them extinct, so his own house could take power.' Harry was a bit confused why the man would do that, but asked Draco to keep going.

'The biggest target for him was the Black Family, who had begun changing from radical purists to the grey. He ordered everyone in the family to war, and as a result nearly wiped them out as all were killed by the Trolls. Only one, Arcturus Black, survived. The war ended soon after, with the extinction of almost every kind of Troll and endangerment of the rest, as none of the others were as heavily targeted. As such, they came out relatively intact. Arcturus was heralded as a war hero, and overthrew the Minister, charging and executing the man with crimes against an Ancient and Noble family.' Harry raised his hand, and Draco nodded.

'What's the difference between an Ancient and Noble and Most Ancient and Noble family?'

'Nothing, there are just Muggleborn, or New-Blood, Elder families and Ancient and Noble. The title Most Ancient and Noble is technically the right name, but informally we ignore the Most. Some can reach Elder and Noble status or just Noble, but it hasn't happened in over a Hundred years.'

'Why?'

'Ancient status is only granted to original families, which means the highest rank you can achieve nowadays is Elder and Noble, and as a rule imposed by Merlin is unshakable. Elder status requires 10 generations to have passed of purely Wizard blood, though a Half-blood would still count as a Pureblood, and continue the line. Noble status is granted by heroic actions in battle by a family member, and even an out-of-the-gate Muggleborn could achieve Noble status for his or her family, though that has only happened ten times in History.' Harry nodded, waiting.

'The issue is that while it says any Heroic Action, it really means the defeat of a Dark Lord, and as that has only been committed by Dumbedore and you in recent History, both already of Ancient and Noble status, there has been no reason to elevate anyone. Now, let's move back, to the Muggle War.' Draco took a deep breath, and began once more.

'The Muggle War is the infamous battle that happened between Muggles and Wizards, long, long ago, that drove Wizards to essentially create a second earth. Not out of Fear, or being defeated, far from it, they were actually victorious, but out of fear that they would misuse their power over the weaker peoples. Really it is pretty simple. Ancient Muggles wanted Magic, thought they could steal it from Wizards by killing us because Muggleborns killed us and grabbed wands, casted magic. It was also the cause of the Pureblood belief Muggle Borns were those who stole magic from Purebloods, though this was debunked.' He paused, took a sip of water from a cup he'd pulled out of nowhere, and continued.

'Wizards pushed them back, and became fearful they would destroy the Muggles, who were essentially their cousins, like Gorillas, and began researching ways to hide. It was through this research that the Memory Charm, Fidelius, and Space Expansion Spell were discovered. Using the last one, they created new lands, and doubled the size of the planet. Also, the Cloaking charm was used to hide islands the Muggles didn't know about, such as the secret Bird Island, Or Phoenixa, and Carnasia, though the latter was more of a later creation, and the former an Island that was cloaked some hundred years ago, I think.' Now, Draco breathed in deeply, as they had reached the end.

'The Time War was fierce. It was Chaos, and is older than our entire race. It is said to hae been the event that destroyed civilizations, and brought about the extinction of the most ancient race to have ever existed. Our only records are kept hidden, relics and books each Ancient Family kept to themselves, written in a secret language that took Thousands of years to crack. While there is one museum in Germany that was gifted with many of the leftovers that were found by the people, protected by all the governments, it's findings and exhibits are tiny compared to the vast amount of knowledge collected by the families. The Peverells were said to have the largest collection, and once they merged with the Potters, it was an undisputed fact. Somewhere in your Manor, will be the greatest storage of artifacts from the Time War anywhere.'

'Can you tell me about it?' Harry was now hooked on his words.

'It is said to have been fought by two ancient races, the Gallifreyans-' Harry gasped, but it went unheard. '-And the Daleks. One sought to observe and catalogue the Universe, never interfering, and one sought to convert it to their way of life. I haven't had a chance to read the notes so I only know superficial details, but suffice to say, one Time Lord went rogue, and, sacrificing his people and planet, destroyed both. No one knows where he is, though some say he will show up again to restore his home and save his people, though The Potter collection likely has something about him. In the end, that is all we know of the Last Great Time War, the greatest and most terrible battle to have ever, and will ever, been fought.'

Draco now stood up, scheduled their next meeting and left, leaving Harry to stew this over as he walked up to Ravenclaw Manor, now considering the implications of what he'd now learned. One thing was for sure, and that was he was going to be exploring Potter Manor as soon as possible.

—-

Draco Malfoy, Heir to the Malfoy Fortune and Descendant of the Great Black Family. He was always taught he was special, spoiled rotten and treated like a prince, despite belonging to a merely Elder House. As such he was always taught that he deserved anything he asked for, and that Muggle Borns were a blight on society's paper.

Then, he met Harry Potter. The boy who taught him that he did not deserve the world, demonstrated Humility despite his technically Royal Status. It showed him how his parents were wrong, and that the world was a dangerous place, and he needed to change if he was to survive. So he decided to do the unthinkable, what his father would describe as the worst act ever, and befriend a Weasley.

They had talked for sometime, eventually turning from hostile to standoffish. After some weeks, they developed a tentative friendship, and soon blossomed into best friends, bonding over their shared love of Quidditch, Harry Potter, and, most surprisingly, politics. Each was interested in it, though Ron in the workings of the Auror department, and he in the Wizengamot. Ron, realizing that he'd found someone who might help him in that area, grew even more excited, and Draco had smiled. Actually smiled, at a Weasley. Even now he shivered at doing such a thing again.

As he reflected on that, the Gryffindor walked down the hallway, heading up the stairs toward Gryffindor Tower. The walk was a long one, and as he went, Neville Longbottom caught up, the two walking together as they had found a friendship there as well. How his Father would cry at those he'd chosen to ally with.

'Hey, Draco, how are you?'

'Pretty good, Neville. It seems Harry hasn't gotten proper education, and I'm quite glad I get to teach him.' His clumsy friend frowned.

'What do you mean? Didn't Dumbledore say something about training him?'

'Well, yeah, but that's in magic. The man may be a master politician, but he isn't from an Ancient and Noble family. The only reason I know it is because my mother is from House Black, otherwise it'd probably fall to you or Greengrass. Though I doubt Daphne would be able to stay conscious long enough to do so.'

'Yeah, boy is into him. Bet she's super happy she lucked out with him as her betrothed. Though I do wonder if her parents would have accepted anyone else…' Neville looked pensive.

'It was her grandparents, remember? And it's doubtful, their allies are few and the Grey faction is growing smaller every day. Something is causing them to begin choosing sides, and it's been happening for a while. Besides, most families were betrothed by then, so she likely wouldn't have found an untethered suitor as worthy.' They were till four floors away.

'Yeah. When do you think she'll break? I guarantee at least the Yule Ball.'

'What do you mean 'Break'?' His confusion was clear, and Neville smiled.

'I forget you weren't raised by very accepting Pureblood parents. I mean when she'll drag him into a broom closet and have her wicked way with him, despite the curse. We can all see that even if he has been distracted since the World Cup, the Blood Curse is weakening. We've all heard her practically rave about the fact he will hold her hand and even gave her a hug once.' Draco laughed, and pulled out five Galleons.

'Day of the arrival of the schools, 100%, Take the highest odds you can give me. It will happen.' Neville pocketed the coins, planning on handing them over to the Twins once they arrived, who were managing the pool. Thankfully, Harry didn't know, and Daphne was 50/50.

'What makes you so cocky, Malfoy?' His friend smiled, and a shiver went up his spine, fear crawling up like a spider.

'Because I happen to know a certain person coming on the Beauxbatons carriage, family, and may or may not have told Greengrass about her.' Now Neville was just confused.

"What makes this arrival so special?

'She is related to me on my Father's side, 6th cousin. We keep in touch. Her name is Fleur Delacour.' Neville gasped. **Shit.**

'You mean, Fleur Delacour, daughter of Apolline Delacour, the Rebel Veela? Who left Carnasia, took a mate and didn't go back?' Draco nodded. 'Shit! Of course she will! But… won't that cause problems?'

'Oh yeah, and I look forward to seeing the fight.' They had arrived at Gryffindor Tower, and entered. Neville walked over to the Twins cursing under his breath, as Draco's en point date would beat out his vague bet.

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	32. Rise

**I do not own anything, except my own storyline and OC's, Just FYI.**

After the sixth day of practical classes where Harry could not perform a spell with his wand, he knew he had an issue. The problem was that he was very limited in those who might know what he was going through, and those he trusted to give him a straight answer. Dumbledore was the eldest, but he often spoke in riddles when advice was sought, which was incredibly annoying. But, seeing as there were likely few who would know what he was talking about, it was really the best option.

Though now that he'd had a chance to speak with Draco about the Wars, there were a few things he could now acknowledge. Gallifrey was destroyed, so that explained why Wizards at the very least hadn't been returned to their homeworld, having become a mostly peaceful society, and why some might actually have information on where the Human species originated. In theory, no one would have known, lest they had some way to draw a conclusion. So this Survivor was the last of his Planet... Extraordinary, and fascinating.

They were supposed to hold some of the greatest secrets of the Universe, as the original natives. At least, they evolved from the Original Natives. The information they could have held… Well, perhaps he could find some way to travel between planets. The Muggles had certainly done a mighty fine job so far. That he could praise them on.

He arrived at the Gargoyle in front of the steps, and rapped on its head lightly. When that didn't work, he assumed Prefects had some sort of secret about it, so he called up for Dumbledore to hear him. When it backed away, he climbed up and tore the door open, not wishing to have to hear the old man essentially brag about his magic-detecting skills and took a chair.

'Sir, I'll keep this short and sweet. Recently, my skills in wandless magic have hit a jumpstart, and I can make small transfigurations, along with any second year spell. But I've been unable to perform any wand-based magic. You're the most knowledgeable person I know, do you know what's going on?' Dumbledore smiled, merely a testament to how often this happened.

'Yes. The magic in our body, your 'Magical Core' is growing. You've entered puberty recently, and as such your growth rate is reaching its apex. So is your core. Recent studies have shown that when this occurs, it lasts for 2 weeks, then you will experience far more control.'

'So it makes me stronger?'

'No. For lack of a better term, it is simply opening wider. The Soul, where magic is stored, has reached a point where it begins to shape itself into something more solid, at least in nature. As such, you will begin to experience more control over your magic. Whereas before you were more likely to overpower a spell, it will now allow you to imagine what you want the result to be. It is also more dangerous, as if you imagine a result bigger than you can naturally produce, our magic will strain to accomplish this, taking energy from your very being. So, if you pour too much effort into it, you can die.' A frown grew on Harry's face.

'But before, if you tried it, the resultant explosion would only impact how your magic would mature?'

'Yes. As I've told you, if you tried to produce, for example, a Bombarda that would destroy a city street, but could only really destroy a light, before you would simply stunt your magic from maturing too much, how many squibs are born. But now, you would kill yourself.' Harry sighed. Nothing was ever easy.

'I've heard many conflicting theories on a Magical Core, even from you, what exactly is it?'

'No one truly knows. Some suspect an organ that can create magic, something it is small things in your cells that channel it, some believe it is your soul. It is my belief that the latter lies true, from experience. While biology of Muggles and Magicals would suggest it is simply an extra organ, I think it is something tied inherently to our benign nature that King Magic, Lady Rationality and Lord Forethought come together and choose who gets magic.' He paused, and Harry let it settle before nodding for the old man to continue.

It is not about who we are, more who we choose to become, and how magic will impact that decision, and how we will shape the future. If there are key individuals, such as yourself or Voldemort, who require it to allow the future we see now, they will be given it. Otherwise, it is simply luck of the draw, that they decided you may get it. And, quite obviously, they seem to use it to hint at certain things. The power of a bloodline, the dangers of inbreeding, the like. It is why the Emrys and Peverell lines are historically God-Like in power, and why some of the Ancient bloodlines are producing weak children, whereas Muggleborn demonstrate themselves stronger.' Harry accepted the answer, seeing the logic.

'Many disagree with me, and sometimes I even contradict this behaviour, but I do not see Magic as something that inherently makes us above Muggles. It certainly produces an advantage, and I know Minerva might disagree, but I see it as a power that our Gods gave us so that we might see success, in the path we are predestined to walk. In a fight, a Magical might beat a Muggle, but they are far more likely to work together when under pressure, despite their differences, than a Wizard or Witch. It is why our governments are afraid of them, because when it comes down to it, they will join together to destroy us rather than see themselves fall apart.' Dumbledore looked down, disappointed. Harry disagreed with his points, but there was logic behind them, he could see how the old man could come to these conclusions, and could also imagine himself coming around.

'The Unity of every country's forces comes under threat of our survival, and believe me in any other situation they would be squabbling like rats over a carcass. We will destroy the Muggles, but we could also face extinction if we don't do it before they find us. Great leaps have been made in the last ten years in terms of acceptance, but that is pointless if those in power are sloppy now. That is why I hate Cornelius Fudge and his desire for the Triwizard Tournament. He does not do it out of care, but in the hope to spit in others faces and say England is superior. And yes, he is English, incredibly patriotic at that. So he does see Scotland, Wales and Ireland as weaker.' Harry understood, but had to break the monologue.

'So you think the Magical Core is simply an extra part of our soul, that allows us to access that primordial force so the path our futures are destined for may be reached, and Muggles equal Magicals in their ability to come together in the end, whereas Magicals almost always refuse to do so?'

'Yes, I supposed that is accurate. Each species has different advantages and disadvantages. Most of our population disagrees with me, but I hope you see I am right.' The Ravenclaw tapped his fingers together, twiddling his thumbs in his lap as he mulled it all over.

'You most definitely have a point. I do ask whether you know that Humans aren't natives of Earth?' His eyebrow raised. This was for all the marbles, if the Old Man knew, then his advice would mean far more.

'And where did you hear such a thing?' Dumbledore's expression betrayed nothing.

'A book.' He wasn't lying, exactly, he had read it. After he'd been told.

'Yes, I do know. I also know it is far too complicated, and many biological structures have been impeded for growing. It will take sometime before we are back to what we were.'

'I suppose you are right. I do ask... What do you think of the destruction of Gallifrey? How it will affect our future?' Albus sat up, and stared him hard in the eyes. While there was no Legilimency, the piercing gaze shocked Harry, as the reaction was quite odd.

'Gallifrey was an important planet. The oldest. So who is to say it was destroyed? Could it not have lived on and we would not know? After all, we are not what we once were.' It was odd. The Old Man was avoiding it. Almost as if…

'It isn't gone, is it?'

'Perhaps. We may never know, I believe it will be many generations in the future the truth shall be confirmed. Or perhaps it will be uncovered soon. Who knows.' Harry was growing frustrated. Dumbledore knew the truth, and was hiding it. But nothing would be gained by yelling at the man. But….

'Sir, isn't there supposed to be a Wizengamot meeting today?'

'No, but I do have some business to attend to. I imagine you shall see yourself out?' Harry nodded as the Old Man moved to the fireplace and disappeared into the floo, barely noting the name of where he left as he quickly walked over to the bookshelf, ignoring the desk. It was heavily warded, to the point even his miniscule Magic-Detecting abilities could figure that out. But the books… perhaps they would hold something.

He skimmed over them, ignoring the more boring ones, deciding to ask to borrow the one on Alchemy, until his finger rested on the most unique. It was odd only in that it appeared completely undamaged. Whereas the other ones showed wear that came with Time, the words were clear as day, reminding him of the Mirror. So he pulled it out, and rested his hands on the cover, drifting over the leather like you would brush a horse. The words, so perfectly formed, read simply:

'_The Deceit of War'_

Carefully prying it open, as if it would turn to dust at the wrong touch, he read passage after passage. It swallowed him as his fascination simply grew. It spoke of how history was lost when wars were fought, and that secrets could win them with a few well-put hints toward the right people. Yet it then got into philosophy and science, leading him to believe it was less a book and more a journal. It was one piece that really got him though, that really affected him;

'_Many believe friendship is weak, a distraction. Not true. Without it, countless wars would have ended differently. You must embrace them, get closer and make them loyal, if it takes your life so be it, for you will know they shall carry on your legacy in your absence as you pass into the Nether World._

_Much in this world is Chaos, and much of it is unknown. You will find many conflicting words, many different theories and beliefs. Some think Muggles are weak, some on par, some stronger. The Magical Core could be an unknown organ, or connected to the soul, as I believe. But with your friends and loved ones, you may just find the path clears itself for you.'_

He'd ignored his friends lately, despite promises to bring them closer, and he knew it was a mistake now. All he could do was try and make amends, build back those bridges, and perhaps his Destiny would become clear.

Never did he notice the twinkling pair of eyes behind half-moon spectacles watching him from afar.

He quickly sprinted to the library, finding a corner and pulling out the book. Perhaps it would hold more wisdom, something he could use to defeat Voldemort. He had considered asking Dobby, but the little elf had been a bit too clingy since he'd been freed. Lucius was quite the willing seller when Sirius Black had arrived on his doorstep. After the elf had saved his life, admittedly by attempting to kill him, he felt there was a debt he ought to repay, and it was the only way he really knew.

Just as he sat down and began the Journal, his eyes strayed away. Another title, much like the one he held in his hands was calling to him. It felt… off. As he set the book down and moved towards it, the tugging became stronger. Fear began to manifest as he trailed a finger along the spine, as a chill was sent up his back. It was Dark, definitely Dark. But hadn't Draco said his Family would have been Dark by today's standards?

Deciding a quick look through wouldn't hurt, he pulled it out, opening it as delicately as he had the other. Everything about it seemed to be the antithesis of the other, Dark and Light spells intermixed, telling of how Balance was the key to it all, and the Grey was far more powerful than either side. When he flipped to the front, it simply read:

'_The Thoughts and Explorations of the Sentinel.'_

Going to the back, curiosity blooming inside, he turned to the last page. There were only a few words written, and just as he began questioning how such a Novel arrived in the Hogwarts Library, he began to read. It allowed something else to sprout, whereas the other was like a flower in spring, this was like shadow under a tree.

'_Many praise the ability to Love, and it is most definitely key to understanding some of the most important aspects of magic. Yet, they always ignore the antipode of the strong emotion. The one even the Department of Mysteries refuses to study despite the advantages it provides, one that should you master as much as you might Love, you may very well find yourself with a power that few could ever hope to control, yet reveals many secrets Wizards, Witches, Gallifreyans, gods, even the King of Magic have sought to hide. It is one that when combined with its converse, can make you a god._

_So Just remember: Hate is just as important as Love.'_

As Harry read, there was a connection. He slowly pulled out his wand, and moved away, dropping the book as it slipped from his fingers, while he entered a trance-like state, and moved to the lawn. Nobody seemed to notice as he walked, unlike normal, all the while he moved to the stairs, sipping out the large oak doors, and moved onto the soft grass.

As he tread across the grounds, his wings began to itch, a sign he had held them in too long. So, allowing them to pull free, the Ravenclaw stood in front of the large boulder by the Black Lake. Before, he'd managed to shatter it in several hits, but now, as he readied himself, channeled all his emotions, he breathed in, and out. In, and out.

In, and out.

Moving into position, he pulled his hand back slightly, and screamed in rage as he launched his most powerful explosion, tearing apart the magical resistant boulder and the grounds surrounding it. His magic was back. His power returned. Now, he could train once more, practice all the spells he'd been working on memorizing for some time. Voldemort and Dumbledore could have torn the Castle down, they had what he needed and wanted. Skill and experience.

He would become more powerful. He would destroy Voldemort, end the man's reign and rebuild, bringing back the Order his Chaos had caused. His skills would be unrivaled, and he would become what he was destined to be. All his friends, his family, would be safe.

Just as he'd missed the eyes from before, he did not see the Black Feather float down on the ground in front of the destruction he had caused, when he retracted his wings.

As all the students lined up for the arriving students, Harry watched the sky, figuring they would arrive from the air, as Apparition and Portkey were impossible at Hogwarts. As such, he wasn't surprised when a carriage flown by Abraxans, as Trip identified, landed on the grounds. From the beautiful blue and purple wooden doors opened, came a steady stream of older students, which he figured were all 7th years.

At the last of the line was an especially pretty girl, along with a very large woman, whose height matched Hagrid. Dumbledore had asked him, along with Trip, to stand by the Headmaster as his star pupils. While they couldn't enter, their scores, more than likely a result of their power and extra training, were record breaking. As such he wanted them to be present as a show of power, even having Harry let his wings free and both allow their auras to present themselves, much like him.

When the large woman's eyes landed on them, her eyebrows practically disappeared into her hairline, too distracted to even acknowledge Hagrid. The girl next to her was surprised as well, though there was much more control. When Harry looked into her eyes, he realised she was a Veela. Or... the daughter of one.

'A Delacour…' He whispered, remembering Draco's lessons. He quickly schooled himself and scratched at his wrist, thinking it over quickly. Supposedly there was something about him that revealed his heritage, so using his Occlumency, he reached inside himself, tearing apart that piece of him. The air felt colder, and Dubmledore gave him a side-glance, his expression unreadable. But thankfully, the look of lust in the Delacours face was replaced with that of a stony frown, to which Harry smirked as he entrapped the Libidine aspect of himself inside a lockbox in his mind.

He watched as the Durmstrang students arrived via ship, and he admired the magic needed. As such he allowed his aura to grow, and he noted that the Delacour gave him a small scowl, yet there was a strange look in her eyes, lately that was growing more and more common. Deciding to ignore it, he brought one of his wings towards him, preening them.

And yet as he was doing this, Daphne watched him, curious as to how he would react to Fleur Delacour. But when she failed to act, she decided that it was probably Draco messing with her. She knew they had some bet going on, and she did not intend to acquiesce to their wants. As she watched, she didn't notice Luna coming up to her, taking the chance as almost every eye was drawn to the Beauxbatons students entering the school.

'Don't trust him.'

'What?' Her eyes widened, as she looked at the little girl, who had seemed so positive of her Betrothed. Yet her eyes were distant now, an odd look.

'He has a sliver of ice in his heart, and it's growing. Something is about to happen that will make it worse, and I suspect that the world will come to regret it. Darkness is rising, and I don't know if His Light will survive it. As it says… And like Phoenix they must Rise of Ash, As Shadow Births from Light's Clash.' It was familiar to her, but she couldn't recall. Deciding to look it up later, her attention was drawn to the lake where a Ship was rising from the Sea. Likely Durmstrang.

But Luna's words refused to leave her head, and worry began to grow. She just hoped Harry would survive the upcoming battles.

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**I may pick this story up again one day, but for now, I shall leave you with the chapters pre-written. Honestly, the amount of criticism and lackthereof constructiveness killed it for me, especially since I was using it to improve. As such, I may continue this on Ao3, but definitely not here.**

**Beginning of 33:**

The Great Hall was filled to the brim with anticipation as Dumbledore stood over the Goblet of Fire. Harry himself was somewhat bored, as he'd found renewed interest in spending time with his friends. Tom had apparently found someway to pass the Age Line, even though he'd been present for the boy's collapse when he'd been stunned before the paper had been thrown in. Yet the gloating had kept coming, and was quickly getting on the Ravenclaws nerves.

When the lights went out, leaving only the candles, the entire Hall was silent. The Goblet flashed blue, and Dumbledore outstretched a ring-adorned hand to grasp the slip of parchment. His expression unreadable, he turned to the student contingent, and called clearly:

'Viktor Krum!'

Everybody clapped, Harry included, as the Quidditch Star left his spot at the Gryffindor Table To regain the slip from the Headmaster, who gave a comforting smile. Quickly slipping down a corridor off to the side, while the old man turned back to the ancient artifact, that would seal many fates with a single decision.

'The Champion for Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, is Fleur Delacour!'

The Woman stepped up, taking the slightly-singed paper from his hand, giving a fake smile to her classmates and followed Krum. Now, it was the Hogwarts champion. Many were heralding Cedric Diggory and Angelina Johnson as the obvious candidates, but Harry couldn't help a tugging unease in his stomach. It was halloween, the time when things always went badly, whether it be terrible classes, the Death of his parents, embarrassment, his luck simply seemed to dish out everything it could on the one day so the rest of the year could turn out amazing.

When the Goblet glowed blue, and Dumbledore gripped the piece like a lifeline, eyes bulging and quickened breaths, Harry knew he was completely, utterly fucked. He was so screwed, there wasn't anything funny about it. So he merely stood up, took the piece and sighed in disappointment. He'd have to ask Seveerus on ways to prove he wasn't lying. So he merely entered the Champions room, as stunned silence trailed after him.

'What izz eet? Where iz ze 'Ogwarts Champion?' The Veelas stare was calculating, but instead of shrinking back he stood tall, despite being absolutely terrified. His abilities might be great, but he couldn't stand toe-to-toe with Seventh years, who had learned spells in their three years that despite all his research he wouldn't be able to compare. They were chosen because they were the best of the best, likely finishing their OWLS in Os, and would complete their NEWTS the same way despite the tournament.

'Ve do not 'ave all day, boy, Tell us, Vor iv Vey need us, ve must be vere immediately.' Both were straightforward, but he suspected Viktor to be the more subtle of the two. You dont go your entire life being a Quidditch Star without learning to keep your secrets, and Fleur had likely been dealing with so many suitors she'd have started telling them, quite bluntly, no. She seemed incredibly abrasive.

'My name came out of the Goblet.' He waved the slip. 'So I am now bound to compete.' Viktor merely narrowed his eyes, but Fleur actually growled. That was when voices could be heard arguing, Dumbledore clear and calm over them all.

'We simply do not know what happened. Jumping to conclusions is a dangerous prospect, Madam.' it washed over him like a bucket of cold water, as he truly thought about what he was stuck in. A game designed to test the abilities of those three years his senior. He'd almost certainly never win, and he had no doubt many would call him a cheat. He could hardly blame them, his name came out in place of a normal 7th year,when he wasn't even supposed to be able to enter.

'Harry, please, settle this debate for us. Did you enter your name into the Goblet of Fire?' His humour at a time like this, while inappropriate, allowed the Ravenclaw to relax, even if just a bit, and unleash a small chuckle. Unfortunately, that was the wrong response.

'Well of course, 'e entered! Iz name came out of zee goblet, did eet not?'

'I will not stand for this Dumbledore, The boy is a cheat! He will die, it is for his own good he does not compete!' Karkaroff seemed concerned for his well being, until Harry considered why he was attempting to deny him entrance. If he had managed to cross the age line, theoretically that meant his abilities at age 14 surpassed those of Dumbledores, he who was heralded as the strongest of the times. It was true, but he doubted his power could ever match the Old Man's skill and experience, and as such the chances of him managing to cross that line was nigh on impossible. Karkaroff was afraid, and wanted to secure his Victory.

'I did not. Is there any way I could prove this?'

'Veritaserum would work, but that would risk spilling far too many secrets than is worth it. You know things the Houses of Potter and Black would take to their graves, for that I have no doubt. And you are 14, it would be illegal.' Severus voiced his opinion, and it received nods from the room. As the Potions Master, he would know.

'The only other possible solution would be a Magical Vow, and I am afraid that is not how it works. It is a binding between two magicks, not a lie detection. Anyone care for a Lemon Drop?' The old man held out a mysteriously procured bowl of the Muggle candy, once again attempting to lighten the mood. Harry took one, and immediately felt a wave of calmness was over. He let it happen, the drought was necessary fro the moment.

'Vell then, ve are out of options. I believe the boy, but it seems I have few allies. Ve must ignore this, vas there not a magical contract?' Bagman seemed to appear out of thin air, much like Crouch, and Harry finally realised they were even present. He'd been getting lackluster in his observations.

'Yes, and we must explain to you the first task! And for which, we will tell you nothing, akey part of any witch or wizard is courage in the face of the unknown! As such, we shall all be signing his document, thank you Mr Crouch, that prevents us from any sort of action in informing the Champions!' The Head of International Affairs seemed annoyed with his joyous counterpart.

'The Contract states that whosoevers name is on the parchment that exists must compete, no questions. So you can get that idea out of your head, Potter, there's no way out of this. You are also bound to attend the school you were inducted under, though classes may be skipped for training. Nor receiving outside help, it is entirely reliant on self-study, and I am terribly sorry, Mr Potter, but the age gap is an unfortunate incident, but you will be tested on the same merits, despite being 3 years their junior.'

Harry groaned, but nodded. He was more worried about the others' reactions, the public was always a fickle bunch and seemed to refuse to draw their own conclusions, so he had no doubt if one person, or even the Daily Prophet, said he was a cheat, he'd be utterly screwed. All it really meant was he'd be spending almost every day in the library, with some time off for his friends.

The rest of the evening was boring as the more minor rules were explained, and they were dismissed to sleep. Ravenclaw was eerily silent, as it seemed everybody had fallen asleep. Still wary, he quickly ascended the steps, carefully moved into his dorm, closed the curtains and used his best protection ward just in case.

His sleep was torturous.

Daphne was being run ragged. Ever since Luna's words, she'd been trying to decipher their meaning until she finally disillusioned herself, as her mother had taught, and entered the library. None of the books in the main area were of any age that they'd hold anything interesting, so she'd carefully moved into the Restricted section, careful not to trip the wards that would alert Filch.

It was nearing Dawn and none of them held even a hint of the words she'd sought, and her strength was fading. At least, until she spotted one lying on the floor, as if thrown down in anger or surprise. When she looked at the cover, she couldn't quite make it out, but the age matched what she had suspected they were from. Carefully prying open to the first page, she skimmed, until the second to last page. There, in bold, silver words, lied what she had been looking for. And it frightened her more than she could have possibly imagined.

'_**The One Born of Darkness Rises, As Their Origin meets Crisis**_

_**Their Time to Rule shall come, But First Forces they must Overcome**_

_**When One of Three becomes Eternal, The Cursed one shall pass on Mantle**_

_**And Like Phoenix they must Rise of Ash, As Shadow Births from Light's Clash.**_'

It was Prophecy long thought either fulfilled, or irrelevant. Many had sought the meaning, and many had attempted to perceive what it would make the world. Palpatine had been the original suspect, but now… now her mind was drifting to someone else. The Descendant of the most evil wizard and witch to have ever existed.

If Luna was right, this year would be the defining moment, in which path the Prophesied Child would choose for their fate, and she didn't know if it was heading in the right one. Perhaps she could save them, but all she could feel was fear, and pity. There was a war brewing, and she suspected the two old Chess Masters were about to face a Third Element, one who would change the board so drastically it would be unrecognisable.


End file.
